


Love From Arcadia

by maginn_the_mauvais



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Ancient Greece, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Demons, Drama, Famine in the Devildom, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Helene's backstory in lesson 5 (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer has no idea how he feels about Diavolo, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Multiple chapters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Poetry, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Canon, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, References to Canon, Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Headcanons, Slow Burn, Soft Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), The Odyssey References, Violence, Witches, Wizards, Work In Progress, wikihow how to tag??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maginn_the_mauvais/pseuds/maginn_the_mauvais
Summary: Diavolo hurried forward and embraced Lucifer tightly, breathing in his raven hair and pressing him to his sturdy body. Overcome with surprise, he responded slowly, resting his hands upon Diavolo's shoulder blades. "I'm so happy that you're here! I've never needed you more."•Lucifer has been away from the Devildom for two hundred years; in the midst of a famine, he is summoned back and reunited with his brothers and Diavolo. He is confronted by the complexity of their relationship. Is it love..?..But, before he can come to a final answer, he is plunged into the human world, along with his brothers, to bring a famous demon poet who smuggled several dangerous snakes out of the Devildom back. Not only is he wrestling with a question that determines the future of his relationship with Diavolo, but his brothers' wiles and the volatile situation of the human world.
Relationships: Diavolo/Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. The Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King leaned forward slightly, as if prepared to be amused. Lucifer's crimson eyes briefly darted to the side, a sudden wariness upon him. "Now, enough about me; how are you, my Prince?" He looked up at the King anxiously, taken aback. "You're not lonely, are you?"
> 
> Lucifer hesitated, then smiled coolly desperately fighting back any awkwardness. "There's plenty of company for me in the Seventh layer. Never a lonesome day goes by- but thank you for your concern, my King."
> 
> "Be honest.” Lucifer squinted and forced a smile, a bit of impatience slipping into his mind. This was not something he ever planned on discussing with a King. “Do you not wish your brothers were alongside you?"
> 
> •
> 
> Lucifer has an audience with the Demon King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM INCREDIBLY SHY AND HAVE SAT ON THIS FOR MONTHS BECAUSE IM TOO CRITICAL OF MYSELF, HOW ARE YOU?? :'0
> 
> huge thank you to my two beta readers who didn't totally know what the hell obey me was, but were still willing to sit down and offer me some writing critiques and spot my grammar mistakes!! Y'all are real g's and without your hyping me up, I highkey would have never posted this. Thank you for your enthusiasm and patience with me! LOVE YOUUUU <3<3
> 
> EDIT 2/17/21: Edited two tiny formatting mistakes, the description, and added end notes

One; The Audience

> “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” - _The Tempest,_ William Shakespeare

* * *

Guards lowered their heads as the finely dressed demon prince swept through the shining halls with his eyes scrunched against the glaring glow of the chandeliers and the gleaming golden walls. Gradually, he found halls decked with less blazing lights that wallowed in humble shadows all the way to a final room, where two demons stood guard miserably at either side of dual doors at the darkest edge of the palace.

The detailed carving emblazoned on it was split into eight parts. At the top was a grave, hulking King upon his throne, and surrounding him were the princes adopted into Hell after their banishment from the Celestial Realm. The eldest, himself, was stationed in the sector directly beneath him, with his brothers in a row beside him.

The carvings were simple and shapely, but even so held an uncanny resemblance that reminded him he hadn't set his gaze upon their faces in ages. Softly, he wished them the best in their fight against the famine, his eyes glazing over with pitiful sorrow.

Despite his patience the great doors didn't open for him. Gazing down at the weary guards, he noted the way they held their spears- they weren't ready to attack but they certainly weren't at ease. He dipped his head to them in a short bow, reaching into his front pocket. He carefully took a piece of parchment and unfolded it, revealing the dark red seal upon it. "I'm here on the Demon King's orders."

The guards leaned forward, studiously observing the seal. The leftmost of the two reluctantly reached out and prodded it, sunken eyes narrowed with great focus- Lucifer furrowed his brows.

"It's real," the taller of the two finally declared. They both bowed, before taking either handle wordlessly.

The doors to the throne room opened with a splitting scraping against the floor, a golden light splitting through the open doorway like a carpet, stopping at the long, dark claws of the Demon King, and obscurely revealing the decrepit faces of his Council, every nicety of theirs captured unnervingly realistically in canvas.

The smaller demon knelt before the large, the broad-shouldered King who sat upon his throne, submerged in darkness. His eyes gleamed like great yellow fireflies, brilliant as the golden rooms of his den, his claws curling menacingly around the edge of his armrest. The doors closed just as harshly as they had opened. He emitted a heavy breath from between his lips somewhere in the darkness, that reverberated and wavered into a rattly sigh.

Although the demon was significantly smaller than the one before him, he still had an air of importance about him that made him hard to ignore. Three sets of large, beautiful silky black wings were tucked behind him, and his pointed black horns were polished so arduously they shone even in the lightless room, as if to suppress the thinness about him. "My King," he greeted in a mature voice, straightening his back. "I came as soon as I got your summons."

"I thank you- your sense of duty never fails to impress me." The large dragon-like beast grunted, rising into a slightly more appropriate slouch upon his pedestal. "What do you think of Virgil? That.. silly, tiresome poet." the Demon King heaved in a garvelly, hard voice.

Virgil was loved by the populace of Hell and despised by the nobles. Dividing the already struggling Devildom with his flowery tongue and colorful conjecture, he was an inspiring case of rebellion that had consumed their thoughts and words with his own. His uncensored criticism and brutal honesty were revered by the masses of demons in all of the layers- he controlled them with his eloquence.

Lucifer pursed his lips, lifting his head. "To be quite frank, your Majesty, I try not to." The King chuckled hoarsely, reducing quickly to a fit of coughing. Lucifer frowned slightly.

"Ah.. that's terribly hard these days." The King emitted a heavy sigh. His long scaled tail lashed and a deep, raspy growl grew in the back of his throat.

Half of his face sank into view and he clenched his powerful jaw, peeling back his lips to reveal his gritted yellow teeth. "I want him _dead._ " His words stung, coated thickly in unadulterated fury.

Lucifer's eyes widened with shock at the blunt command. However irritating the nobles found the loud, melancholy poet, the populace loved him tenfold. If he was slaughtered there would be an outrage to follow- no-one would have any control.

"He's overstepped his boundaries... my son made an address a few days ago." The Demon King grumbled miserably, his claws retreating back to his armrest.

"..I'm sorry to have missed it."

"No... no, it was of poor taste. You're lucky to have been overseeing your circle of Hell, rather than the absolute _chaos_ that followed Diavolo's overzealous speech." Lucifer's polite smile faded, replaced with a more serious, focused expression. He shifted in his seat, his gleaming yellow eyes turning to the dark walls emptily. "Virgil, you see, did not enjoy it."

"..What sort of message did Lord Diavolo present?" Lucifer asked, creasing his brows. "I'm sure what he said wasn’t ill-intended."

"They weren't," the King agreed. "I suppose it was his timing. A famine was not the time for him to try to discuss amity between all three realms. The people are so desperate to have their bellies full, they'd sooner take to devouring humans and angels."

He shook his head bitterly, continuing "Hours after the speech, Virgil was declaring his hatred for it on a street corner to his followers. I sent a guard to tell him I desired an audience with him- he liked that even less, I suppose. He's since fled to the human world." The corners of Lucifer’s downturned lips twitched.

"With him, he smuggled four extremely dangerous snakes that hail from the Fifth Circle. If they are not recovered, not only will human-kind be in grave danger, but the demons hiding from the famine. Not in the past five thousand years have so many demons been in the human world. Most of the breeds he has taken have been known to make meals of demons when they reach the proper size.. these snakes will impact everyone in that realm if they aren’t killed.”

"I understand." Lucifer nodded seriously. "I shall smite Virgil and his serpents, your Majesty."

The King leaned forward slightly, as if prepared to be amused. Lucifer's crimson eyes briefly darted to the side, a sudden wariness upon him. "Now, enough about me; how are you, my Prince?" He looked up at the King anxiously, taken aback. "You're not lonely, are you?"

Lucifer hesitated, then smiled coolly desperately fighting back any awkwardness. "There's plenty of company for me in the Seventh layer. Never a lonesome day goes by- but thank you for your concern, my King."

"Be honest.” Lucifer squinted and forced a smile, a bit of impatience slipping into his mind. This was not something he ever planned on discussing with a King. “Do you not wish your brothers were alongside you?"

Lucifer's smile struggled, faltering briefly as he realized the direction of the question. His stomach turned knots and he slowly drew in his breath. "Wouldn't you like to see them more often? You've been parted for- for a century, is it?"

"Ah, two. Centuries, that is.." Lucifer wavered in his words, squinting uneasily. "I'm quite fine with that, though, my King. There's no helping it, we're all busy with our duties."

The King chuckled. "Well, no more. You'll be glad to know you'll be seeing them tonight."

Lucifer's jaw fell ajar, caught between anger and composure. "Please, my King-" his tone was harsh, unlike he had intended. He paused for a moment, flustered and grinding his teeth behind closed lips, refusing to gauge the King’s reaction. He began again, softer and servile. "Please, my King, I can handle everything you need and more. I request, in the humblest way, that you please tell them it was a mistake and send them back to their stations across Hell. They would do nothing but keep me from accomplishing your needs."

The King shook his head. "It's far too late for that. Most of your brothers were needed in the Devildom more than anywhere else. Thus, Satan, Belphegor, Mammon, and Leviathan are already here and have been staying in the Devildom, quelling riots and trying to restore some sense of order while others oversee their domains. Princes Asmodeus and Beelzebub are on their way right now with their summons, just as you." The King crossed his arms. "Once they arrive and I can speak to all seven of you, I'll describe your mission in greater detail."

Lucifer pursed his lips and crossed his arms behind his back, resting them in the downy feathers of his wings. "My dear Prince," the King said in a soft way, leaning forward on his chair. "This isn't a comment on anything. Don't let your pride get the better of you. Besides, I do think you will find yourself gladder for the help than not." The King beckoned him off with one of his great, claw-like hands. "Please, steady yourself and get settled into your room for the night."

Lucifer exhaled to himself and plastered his pale lips into a tight smile. "Thank you for the audience, my King. I look forward to the next."

* * *

Exiting the King's great chamber, Lucifer's heart tumulted restlessly as he continued to think of the intrusion of his brothers into his mission. The eldest prince, Avatar of Pride, could handle a wiry poet and his some snaklets easily. There truly was no need for them to follow him to the human world- they would only step on his toes with their incessant antics. He turned his hands into fists, tumid with dismay.

Trying to steady himself as the King had asked, he slowed down, carefully eyeing the hallway. "Greetings, Lucifer."

The Avatar of Pride jerked, surprised by the soft, deep voice. Not far behind him stood Barbatos, Diavolo's loyal man-in-waiting.

He gazed at him with his guileful emerald eyes and a vague smile, holding two platters of food in either hand, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma.

It looked delicious and even the quantity itself was surprising- though the plate wasn’t half as full as they often were two hundred years ago, considering the famine, it was still an impressive amount. Just enough, he desperately imagined, to sate oneself. "Do you know what room you're staying in?"

Lucifer hesitated, shaking his head. "No."

"Very well," Barbatos nodded seriously. "I was just headed there anyway. Please, follow me." He continued onward, light on his feet. Lucifer followed slowly behind him.

The demon butler turned his head, his faint smile remaining. "He's quite excited to see you."

"Do you mean Lord Diavolo?" he inquired, lessening the distance between them with a few hasty steps.

"Of course." Barbatos slowed down slightly, allowing Lucifer to stand at his side. He chuckled. "Ah.. you're fine with sharing his bedchambers, aren't you?"

Lucifer froze, surprised, yet charmed Diavolo wanted him so close. "..Yes. Of course. And he is.. he's fine with that?"

"More than." Barbatos laughed in a warm way. "I haven’t seen him more excited since he was a child."

Lucifer looked up briefly at the high roof above them, trying to hide his smile. Wisps of two Little Demons' shadowy figures shot across the foundations as soon as he looked skyward, retreating back down the hall briskly. His smile faded and as he watched the last note of their tiny spherical bodies disappear from his sight. He glanced back at Barbatos. "I heard the Devildom is facing an issue beside the famine." The butler paused, turning fully and patiently awaiting something. Lucifer chuckled. "I won't ask of the future. How is Lord Diavolo?"

Barbatos's smile disappeared. He turned, trying to hide his expression. "..Not well, I'm afraid." The hallways were suddenly quiet. The hall had fallen silent as death and Barbatos didn't speak another word, sorrowful at the thought of his lord's hurt.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

Barbatos nodded, but didn't speak.

Finally, they stopped before a set of ebony doors, lit dimly by two faltering candles that bled wax vainly. Lucifer still remembered those doors- many a times, he walked with Diavolo to this room and bid him a good night, watching him disappear into the darkness they held behind them. "Your dinner is ready, my Lord." Barbatos called.

The response was lagged. "Leave it outside the door, please." Diavolo called. Lucifer raised his head and ruffled his dark feathers, something in him reignited hearing his voice.

Barbatos glanced at Lucifer with a smirk. He approached the doors and rapped upon them gently. "Lord Diavolo-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also, just as clarification concerning the poet character named Virgil; he is not intended to be the real life poet. I realized a bit late that having a fictional poet named after a real, famous poet might be,,, super confusing..! :’))


	2. Blood Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's not why you're here, is it?" He pursed his lips, speaking quickly. "You wouldn't kill him, would you?"
> 
> Lucifer was abash, his crimson gaze hardening and sinking. "..I couldn't if you gave the order." He spoke in a quiet manner, his voice low as the waning candles outside the door. "My debt to you persists."
> 
> •
> 
> Lucifer and Diavolo are reunited!

Two; Blood Oath

_Finally, they stopped before a set of ebony doors, lit dimly by two faltering candles that bled wax vainly. Lucifer still remembered them- many a times, he walked with Diavolo to this room and bid him a good night. "Your dinner is ready, my Lord." Barbatos called._

_The response was lagged. "Leave it outside the door, please." Diavolo called. Lucifer raised his head and ruffled his dark feathers, something in him reignited hearing his voice._

_Barbatos glanced at Lucifer with a smirk. He approached the doors and rapped upon them gently. "Lord Diavolo-"_

* * *

Almost instantly the doors burst open like floodgates, forcing Lucifer and Barbatos to scramble back. Diavolo looked at them, dumbfounded. He hurried forward and embraced Lucifer tightly, breathing in his raven hair and pressing him to his sturdy body. Overcome with surprise, Lucifer responded slowly, resting his hands upon Diavolo's shoulder blades. "I'm so happy that you're here! I've never needed you more." he spoke, his words warm upon Lucifer's brow and smelled faintly of Demonus.

Lucifer smiled, brushing off the suspicious smell on his breath. "So am I. I am always glad to be at your side, Lord Diavolo." Finally satisfied with the hug, he released him, beaming, cheeks hued rosyily.

The Demon Lord didn't look robust as he did before. His skin had lost the fiery luster it had to it and now held a duller, slightly lighter pigment and dark circles lined his eyes. He didn't hold himself with the same elegance he often did, either; his posture was aloof, with his arms hanging heavily at his side and wore a robe tied dangerously loosely around his waist. Diavolo grinned, flushed, his hands brushing against Lucifer's in a touch-starved way. He doubted Diavolo had left his room for sometime, reconsidering the unpopular speech and the vicious state of the Devildom.

"About dinner, my Lords..?" Barbatos smiled, raising the plates slightly. "Tonight is a special one, so I've prepared haunch of moonboar with a rosemary garnish and a side of steamed hellfruit. I have a plate of hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies ready for dessert later tonight. Until then, I hope you'll enjoy each other's company in dining." Barbatos took a step forward, but Diavolo moved quicker, taking the plates from his hands- shocked, his emerald eyes fluttered. "Ah-?"

"Thank you, Barbatos. This is sure to be savoured!" Diavolo grinned at Lucifer. "We've got much catching up to do, Lucifer. Let us get started over dinner."

"What a lovely idea, my Lord." Lucifer said, slipping into his room behind him. He turned, setting his sights on Barbatos. He nodded a goodbye to him. The butler's surprise turned to one of his faint, cool smiles and he nodded back, turning back down the hallway.

"Would you shut the door, please?" Diavolo asked, setting the plates down upon a small tea table.

Lucifer obeyed, shutting the door softly. He turned back to the tea table, where Diavolo was busying himself with an improvised centerpiece. "Barbatos didn't bring any refreshments, did he?" He was a bit surprised, taking note. That certainly didn't seem like himself.

Diavolo froze, stopping abruptly. He glanced at the table, then dropped to his knees, rifling beneath his bed and retrieving two rather cute bottles of Demonus, likely not intended to be bought by a demon of Diavolo's size as much as one closer to an imp's. Lucifer was sure the lord had been too captivated by their miniature size to convince himself of practicality whenever he had bought them.

"He knows I have plenty to drink here." He grinned fondly, passing one to Lucifer. "Cheers."

Lucifer glanced at it. "C-cheers." he echoed, absentmindedly. He rose his head, meeting eyes with Diavolo reluctantly starting towards the table and standing behind the chair opposite of the one Diavolo appeared to have chosen. "Lord Diavolo, I hate to bring this to mind, but-"

"If it's about the address," Diavolo beckoned with the bottle in his hand. "You'll need to give me a moment."

His mind swirled with thoughts and plenty of things he would have liked to have said, but Diavolo clearly wasn't in the mood to deal with such matters- not until he was in a stupor. Lucifer's fingers tightened around the back of the chair, a bout of sadness drawing over him like dark clouds. This certainly wasn't the good-hearted Lord's best of days and he couldn't help but feel great pity for him. He'd done his best to garner some goodness in the spirits of the demons, but had failed, thanks to his faulty timing and Virgil's evident lack of empathy.

"You can sit." Diavolo said, interrupting his pitiful thoughts. "Please, drink with me."

Lucifer took his seat, crossing his legs and popping the cork top off easily. He smiled at Diavolo, tipping his bottle. "Thank you, my Lord."

Diavolo hesitated, pursing his lips. "No. Forget about titles for tonight. I just want to be Diavolo." He frowned in a quiet, sincere way, folding his hands around the neck of his bottle.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by the earnest request. He wasn't entirely sure he could even manage such a thing- it simply seemed too wrong to say his name in such a way. "Are you positive?"

Diavolo nodded. "I want to be Diavolo and Lucifer, if just for the night." He smiled, a warm shine in his golden gaze. "Let's pretend to be some other version of ourselves- just until morning comes. Then we can speak titles again and eat in the dining hall." He shook his head fiercely, fixating his sights on the miniature bottle he held. "But tonight I want to be Diavolo, and nothing more."

Lucifer nodded slowly. "Very well.. Diavolo." His gut clenched up uneasily, awaiting something awful to happen- but Diavolo only smiled gratefully, before unwrapping his silverware from a velvet dinner cloth.

Lucifer hesitated, that sick feeling lingering over his head, but slowly picked up his own utensils. Diavolo stifled a sudden noise and Lucifer jerked in his chair, wings flaring outward in a suddenly flurry of loose feathers. The red-haired demon burst suddenly into a fit of laughter, Lucifer warily furrowing his brow and glowering, a sudden sting of hurt developing in his chest. "What, my L-" he froze, catching himself. He ground his teeth. "What are you laughing about?"

Diavolo grinned, forcing his laughter into submission. "It's not you, I swear-" he snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. Lucifer shook his dark wings, reluctantly tucking both sets in behind him and untensing his shoulders, awaiting Diavolo to steady himself enough to explain. Finally, he went still, only a few more snickers racking him. "It's-" he chuckled. "It's just a mood-shifter, nothing that different from the comfort candies you can buy from Madame Devian's. Barbatos has been putting them in everything I eat."

He frowned, creasing his dark brows. "Oh- Diavolo." To think of him, supplementing his happiness with each meal, brought a heavy burden of guilt upon Lucifer. "You should have sent me a letter."

The demon cracked a smile, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I should have. I suppose I haven't been thinking very straight." He took the bottle of Demonus and sipped it quietly, his golden eyes panning up towards Lucifer solemnly. Lucifer's chest tightened, some unidentifiable emotion rattling him. He quickly broke his gaze, cutting into the haunch piece. "Have you been reading as of late?"

Diavolo had never loved reading too fervidly, lest it was human tales. Understanding he likely hadn’t left the castle, if not his room, for a matter of days, he imagined he had a plethora to tell him about. "Of course. What have you been reading?" Lucifer pronged the slice he had cut for himself.

He lifted the fork to his lips and sank his teeth into the food he'd been yearning to taste. They sank right through, and his mouth filled with the juices that had seeped inside as it had cooked. It exploded in savory bursts of flavor that filled his mouth with a decadent, mature, and sweet flavor. His palate eagerly accepted the precious meal. He tormented it with his tongue and ran it beneath his teeth again and again as he tried to keep the taste fresh in his mouth and painstakingly savored it.

He was reminded of his hunger, and the demonic urges that resonated in the back of his mind- and finally, he was able to give into it. Tearing the meat into shreds with his predatory teeth was a stark reminder of his instincts, generally unsung for sake of his own pride. He finally swallowed, as he discerned the aftertaste of the potion Diavolo had mentioned. It was like a burst of honey in the back of his mouth- a strange addition. But, he was too grateful for the otherwise flawless meal, though, to give it much more thought.

"I'm sure you've heard of Virgil's work, then! I was surprised with how much I enjoyed it! It's quite brilliant, wouldn't you say?" He froze, staring across the table with wide eyes, nearly choking on his food. "His poetry is so emotional and romantic. It is such a lovely thing to read, and it's very pleasant on the ears. It reads as a choir sings."

"But," Lucifer squinted, then laughed uneasily. "Isn't he the cause of all this trouble? Your father hates him so dearly that he wants him dead."

Diavolo sighed. "Does he, now?" Diavolo shook his head, crossing his arms and slouching. "That's the last thing he deserves. I truly don't think Virgil meant harm to this extent. I think he had every right to share his opinions, and I think that his criticism made me all the wiser. The speech- the speech wasn't well planned."

Diavolo had fallen quiet, stewing in his own quickly returning misery and cutting his food. Then he paused, looking up with widened eyes. "That's not why you're here, is it?" He pursed his lips, speaking quickly. "You wouldn't kill him, would you?"

Lucifer was abash, his crimson gaze hardening and sinking. "..I couldn't if you gave the order." He spoke in a quiet manner, his voice low as the waning candles outside the door. "My debt to you persists."

Diavolo narrowed his eyes, a sense of duty overcoming him. He rose from his seat and tightened his robe, before drawing his long black claws across the palm of his hand. Blood pooled from the wound which his fist instinctively clenched around. Dark tattoos formed across his body, on his forearms, legs, and visible chest and pointed, carmine horns bloomed from his skull. Lucifer slit his own open palm and rose, Diavolo quickly taking it and pressing it firmly to his bubbling wound.

"You are not to kill Virgil. He must be delivered to the Devildom alive, but apprehended and impotent. This command I bind you to by the oath we share, the great one we formed in the midst of Celestial War when your wings first turned to the rich color of night." He raised his head high. "Hear me now and tell me you understand, Lucifer the Morningstar."

"I understand wholly, Lord of Demons."

Diavolo squeezed Lucifer's hand once more, before letting go. He nodded slightly, exhaling heavily and holding his own wounded hand. When he let go, the wound was gone and he took the velvet cloth to wipe away the blood upon it. "I wish you good luck." he said solemnly, leaning over to pass him the same cloth before sitting back down and carving the haunch into slender, juicy pieces.

As Lucifer held the cloth to his wound, healing himself and cleaning away the blood, he took careful note of the sadness that clung to him, cruel and unyielding. Lucifer sank back into his own chair, lost in thought as he tried to determine what best to say. He took two more blissful bites, before he settled. "Perhaps," Lucifer looked up and chuckled slightly. "You could show me the beauty of Virgil's work. Maybe all I need is to see it through new eyes to realize its genius, and I'm always quite happy to hear your handsome voice."

Diavolo met his eyes, bewildered and flustered. He began, stammering over his words, his teeth toying with his lips as he tried to contain a grin. He nodded. "I would love that. I would be honored to share such a thing with you." He nodded eagerly. "After dinner- and let us go to the rooftop. I haven't seen the moon in a while, and I would like nothing better than to see it with you."

Lucifer smiled, taking the modest flask of Demonus, and sipping shallowly.

...

With their plates empty and their spirits high, the pair started down the halls with a boyful levity to their steps, Diavolo in the forefront, dragging Lucifer by the hand and holding a pamphlet in the other. The wove through hallways with great, gold-embroidered tapestries, paintings of demon warriors, admirals, and friends of the King, the dismal, withered skeletons of ancient prisoners who had been put on display, halls burning with golden light, and ones submerged in ill, eerie shadow, before they came to a series of moon-encrusted alcoves.

Diavolo leaned over the stone parapet and peered up the length of the facade, following trails of black ivy to the old, black, uneven rooftop. He shifted to his demon form, beating the air with his powerful wings. He turned, grinning at Lucifer, who chuckled mildly, setting his hands elegantly among the ridge and extended his great, ebony wings.

He fixed his red lapels as he stepped onto the surface, straightening his long wings so they wouldn't batter the borders of the alcove. He leapt off as if diving, but caught himself easily with a flutter of his wings. He turned, scanning the roof for a place to land. "Follow me." Diavolo spoke in a playful manner, brushing his fingers against Lucifer's wrist before shooting ahead, leaving a trail of his laughter as he curved around a tower and out of sight.

Lucifer hurried after, spreading his wings out flat and hurtling after him. He felt the cold wind breaking, freezing, on his face, defiling his feathers with its icy hands, and ruffling his dark hair. He barely managed to stop himself from passing Diavolo, his red hair and golden eyes peeking over the balustrade. He quickly back-tracked, gliding towards it and landing steadily on his feet. He crossed his arms behind his back and smirked, bending over the Demon King's son as he laid on his back and chortled, reduced to a joyful state.

Stepping down, the dark-haired, sleek demon seated himself beside him, staring at his laughing face, glowing in the moonlight's heavy glow. "You're brilliant." His beguiling gaze focused on Lucifer unwaveringly, a spark of unquenchable life that had been hiding finally surfacing. "You look like you've come right out of a painting, and yet-" Diavolo reached upward, running his warm, soft hands through Lucifer's hair. "-you're so real."

Lucifer cocked a brow and smiled, pleased with the calming sensation of his companion's warm touch. Coldness set in as his companion's hand left his body, leaving him longing for more. "Sounds as though you're a poet yourself." Diavolo smiled, quickly pushing himself upright and skimming over the pamphlet he held.

Diavolo started then, his voice enchanting.

"These Iambic semantics expose my melancholic woes,

My Melodramatic antics, and my diabolic throes

Become Erratic madness whence symbolically reposed-"

Lucifer's eyes lit up. He was no longer looking at the pamphlet, but instead gazing off at the round moon straight on with a distant glaze in his eyes. His voice was honey-sweet, deep, and luxurious. He was confident in his memorization. He took a deep breath, swathing himself in the beauty he beheld.

"-These Fanatic romantic urges- into graceless, brevity prose

My Satanic, idiomatic needs merely juxtapose

My Arcadic and ironic wants are better shown than told,

_Because words cannot tell of my Eros or even how I wish to live with you forevermore on the isle of Lesbos."_

Lucifer blinked, his mouth falling slightly ajar. The poem was nothing new; it was one of Virgil's earlier works, and he had heard it before, though not as rigorously as his political-romantic ones. He'd hated it just as dearly- he hated the unpolished sound of it and the word choice itself.

But, somehow, read in Diavolo's voice, he felt his heart fluttering eagerly, ready to take his hand and race with him to that aforementioned 'Arcadic' isle. "I don't think Virgil has ever sounded quite as beautiful as he did just now, when you spoke for him." Lucifer said, his cheeks growing warm. "I could listen to that all night."

Diavolo stared, a very particular gleam in his golden gaze, that abruptly shifted aside. " _A-Ah_." he paused, ruffling his red hair in a sheepish way. "Have you ever felt such a way about someone? That overwhelming urge that they'll be happy forever, and so will you, living forever in some... some jovial paradise?"

He glanced at Diavolo, surprised by his nervous face and earnest question. It had to be that Lucifer was confusing that gleam upon his cheeks, the humble look in his eyes, and the way he leapt at any excuse to touch him. He hesitated, before reluctantly answering with his second thought and a vague nod. "Lillith."

Silence grew like mold, the horrible stench of embarrassment creeping up their noses, into their brains, and making their chests sting. Diavolo finally looked up, his face screwed with confusion. "Your.. little sister? Who's dead?" Lucifer glanced at him, furrowing his dark brows. A sudden look of mortification came over Diavolo as he reconsidered his phrasing. "I mean- that's interesting; that's very kind of you. It's just that I... didn't think that's how you would take it."

Desperate to move on, Lucifer glanced at Diavolo. "That's not the first time your intentions have been misconstrued, is it?" It took the demon a moment before he reluctantly nodded with a stern frown.

He hugged himself and glanced downwards into his lap. "Virgil was kind enough to not assume I was excepting immediate change in the midst of the famine. The criticism he gave; it was fact, and nothing less." Lucifer arched a brow seriously, pursing his thin lips. "Even with time, it could never work, and he's convinced me so. He said a fear of demons is something taught, and rightfully so, as both angels and humans are at risk of being harmed when in our presence. He thinks that all demons are naturally ill-intended and would never comply with an alliance- which I disagree with, of course, but even so..." He sighed deeply, pausing with a pained look on his face. "Even so... he makes a keen point."

Lucifer frowned. "Diavolo-" it was beginning to feel a bit more natural to call him by his name. "Do you want to hear what I think?"

Diavolo snorted. "Just... don't try to comfort me. I'm not giving up, I'm just- I'm just rethinking."

Lucifer nodded slightly, standing up. "I do think Virgil has a point. But clearly, he's with the wrong sort, because tonight, I'm looking straight on at a demon with a good heart.. an infectious one, I believe." Diavolo glanced up at him with slight intrigue.

Lucifer crossed his arms behind his back and carried on. "A few thousand years ago, you found yourself fascinated with the human world because you suspected there was something amazing in humans... without any duplicitous second plans, despite knowing the flavor of their flesh and souls, the sweet perfume of their fear, and the mellifluous sound of their screams. And when you came upon God's most fearsome archangel standing alone, your first instinct was neither to strike- though you very well could have- nor did you knees buckle with fear." Lucifer smirked. "Rather, you pestered him with hundreds of questions that had been stewing in your mind for an age or ten." Diavolo laughed, reminiscing. Lucifer joined with a throaty chuckle. "You're quite fortunate he didn't smite you."

Diavolo grinned, rising to his feet. "Thank you. That was quite merciful of you." Lucifer chuckled breathily, nodding slightly.

He smiled and lowered his eyelids, fixating his eyes coolly on Diavolo. "I do believe that you, of all demons, could bring about an era of peace if you so willed it." He stepped forward slowly as one does when offering a ballroom dance, his advancing pace gentle as a spring breeze and his hands extended for taking. Diavolo took them steadily, gingerly peering upwards. "And I cannot wait to be the one beside you in this new world... holding your hands just like this..."

He leaned inward slightly, apprehension rising in him as his pride left his lungs and thoughts grew foggy with doubt. His throat felt parched for a moment, leaving him to open his mouth and yet be silent for one fleeting moment. He tried again, meeting the dark-skinned demon's warm, honey-toned eyes. "Diavolo, when you chose that poem-"

"Hear ye, hear ye!" The pair flinched, falling silent at the faintest sound of a voice raised somewhere a few stories beneath them, reminding them there were not really alone. "The Avatar of Lust and the Avatar of Gluttony have arrived! All princes are expected in the Demon King's throne room before twenty past!"

Diavolo hummed in a rather despondent way, glancing at the tall timekeeper in the center of the city before them. It marked the hour as thirteen after ten. "That's you, isn't it?" Lucifer nodded solemnly.

"I haven't the vaguest idea how long we'll be, but I feel it may go late." Lucifer stood up on the parapet, peering at the grounds far beneath him. "I'll meet you back in your room. If you're still willing to by then, I'd love to hear at least one more poem." Diavolo smiled lightly, nodding and coming up, resting his arms parallel to his legs and resting upon the border.

"Of course. Tell your brothers I said hello."

Lucifer laughed, nodding lightly. "I will, if you'll agree to save at least one of Barbatos's cookies for me." A sudden embarrassed look of mortified realization came upon Diavolo as he recalled Barbatos's promise of dessert.

"I'll try to contain myself," he joked, joining him on the balcony with a nervous grin. "I better hurry, before my absence has him sounding alarms."

Lucifer chuckled, kicking off and taking to the sky again. That giddy, childish feeling persisted in his heart like the flames that burned for the duration of Olympic games in the Grecians’ cherished temples- part of him was beginning to assume it wasn't even wholly due to the comfort-potions in their food or the nearly nonexistent effect of Demonus that buzzed in his brain but rather the vibrant presence of his dearest companion who he had missed for so long. "I owe him an apology for keeping his prince from his dessert. I'll see you later tonight."

With a vague reluctance, he waved, slipping into the halls beneath, hurrying on his feet to the throne room, and trying to push thoughts about Diavolo out of his mind as he listened to the ebbing beat of his wide, scaled wings as he returned the way they had come.

He glanced back behind him, though the open sky was long gone and the winding corridor was starkly quiet.

Certainly, the future Demon King wasn't lusting after some memory of an angel he meet nearly ten thousand years ago... and certainly, _he_ wasn't sick with butterflies when he thought of that demon's enraptured face as he stood on the bank, staring through the reeds. He shook his head, walking faster.

Never.


	3. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a gift from me," Diavolo urged, sensing his oncoming refusal. He picked it up gently between two fingers, looking up into Lucifer's eyes brightly. "May I put it on you?"  
> •  
> Lucifer is sent off to the human world early in the morning... and Diavolo isn't ready.

Three; Farewell

> "All the fear and the fire of the end of the world happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl. Happens great, happens sweet; happily, I'm unfazed here, too." - _Wasteland, Baby!,_ Hozier

* * *

Lucifer awoke with Diavolo's arm over his waist and his warm breath on the nape of his neck.

The prior night, the meeting had lasted nearly an hour- and his brothers had managed to keep him for another thirty.

When he came to Diavolo's room, he was still wide awake. He'd kept his promise and left a cookie on the platter- though time had left it cold, it still tasted delicious, the smoky flavor resonating with him as it crumbled in his mouth.

Lucifer sat upon the bed, listening as Diavolo read, his voice sweet and lulling- until finally after hours had passed and the morning was drawing near, the red-haired demon slumped over in the bed. He fell silent, beside the soft, shallow murmur of his breathing.

Lucifer simpered and delicately tucked him beneath the sheet, half-asleep himself. He turned away and shut his eyes, crawling a short distance away from him to sleep in solidarity.

He awoke, most strangely, to the warmth of Diavolo’s body, his arm draped over his body as he held him. At some point in time he must have rolled over. Diavolo hummed sleepily, noticing Lucifer had roused, and he chuckled, less convinced it was an innocent accident.

Before they could exchange any further intimacy, a soft knocking resounded against the door. Diavolo groaned.

"It's time to rise." Barbatos softly spoke through the door. "Prince Lucifer, I'm leaving your human attire at your door. You're expected at the palace's eastern garden, changed, within the next half-hour."

"Thank you," Lucifer managed in his deep, throaty morning voice. He huffed, burying his face in the mattress as soon as he heard Barbatos's receding steps.

"You just got here." Diavolo sighed. "Do you really have to leave so soon?"

Lucifer sat upright, rising from the bed. "I'll be back when my mission is complete, and I don't imagine it will be that hard. I'll speak with the King about staying for a while when I get back." Diavolo smiled tiredly, slightly reassured. "I'm glad I could spend the night with you... brief as that may have been." He gazed at him pitifully.

"Me too." Diavolo crawled to the edge of the bed, watching Lucifer plod to the door, letting in a fleeting wave of dull morning light as he bent down and took his change of clothes.

He laid down a pair of sandals and silver greaves, strophion, and braces, eyeing the vesture with scrutiny. He unfolded it gracefully, holding it to his chest as it unravelled into a dark-blue toga hemmed with silver to match the accessories. He glanced at Diavolo who looked on expectantly.

"Do you mind if I change here?" Lucifer shifted uneasily, grimacing to himself upon asking the question.

He considered further explaining himself, but Diavolo was quick to nod, turning to face the wall instantly. "I won't look," he promised in a gentle voice. Just to be assured, Lucifer turned to face the young lord's chiffonier as he undressed, laying his prior clothes upon the bed until he stood rather vulnerably in nothing but a loincloth.

He draped the toga over his shoulder and tied it around himself, securing it by the silver strophion tightly so it wouldn't fall easily. He glanced at Diavolo, who remained intently gazing straight on at his bed post. "I'm dressed. Thank you."

Diavolo turned, gazing with astonishment at the sight of Lucifer in human-world clothes. "You look divine." Lucifer smiled, turning halfway as he strapped one of the silver armlets onto his wrist.

Diavolo's eyes lit up and he rose from his bed, brushing past Lucifer and to his chiffonier **,** rifling studiously through a cochineal coffer inlaid with gold. Lucifer distractedly put on the second armlet, his intrigue keeping his gaze fixed upon him.

He sat upon the edge of the bed, pulling the lace sandals over his calves as Diavolo whirled around, golden eyes shining victoriously. He quickly came towards Lucifer as he rose, finished with his shoes. In his cupped hands he held a silver ring.

Lucifer paused, surprised. "It's a gift from me," Diavolo urged, sensing his oncoming refusal. He picked it up gently between two fingers, looking up into Lucifer's eyes brightly. "May I put it on you?"

"That's a very generous gift," Lucifer frowned pensively, torn between the risks of either accepting or denying the ring before him. "Are you sure you're willing to part with it?"

Diavolo nodded, an earnest look upon his face. "It was my mother's- but I think she'd be more than happy to see it on your finger." He glanced down, briefly focusing upon Lucifer's hands. He flusteredly broke away, meeting his eyes awkwardly. "And, besides, it would look much better on you than it ever would on me. So please- I want to do this."

Lucifer wavered, then nodded, offering his left hand. "Very well then. I'm most grateful for this." Diavolo elegantly slipped the ring onto his annular finger. He remained, staring at it peacefully for a moment, his fingertips resting against Lucifer's wrist. The Avatar of Pride stared at the silver ring, a gleam in his eyes and a faint smile upon his lips.

"It looks like it was meant to be," Diavolo laughed. It did, Lucifer thought, smiling softly as he stared at it, fitted comfortably to his finger. He finally looked up at the demon lord, who beamed like the human world's golden sun. Lucifer laughed crisply, slightly embarrassed to have been so roused by a ring and a grin.

He slowly shifted, wishing dearly for more time- but, once he put on those silver greaves, there was no more time for him to linger with the King's son in his bedchamber. "It does." His voice was deep and warm, hooked with an edge of sadness.

"Thank you, Diavolo." he tensed, instantly catching his mistake- now that it was morning, it was back to titles and responsibilities. Diavolo didn't seem to care about the mistake if he had even noticed, but Lucifer was filled with nausea.

No matter how close they grew, he was his master. Just as a pact bound a demon to a sorcerer, Diavolo held Lucifer with a fist of control. His very presence stripped the Avatar of Pride of his freedom, turning him into something friable as those ashy goods he loved. He could never disobey. He was bound by oath; bound by status; bound by something he couldn't understand- and that ineffable feeling of being smaller, lesser, and weaker than someone tore him up inside.

" _My Lord_ ," Lucifer's gaze faltered gracelessly. Suddenly he remembered exactly why Diavolo should _never_ make him 'sick with butterflies.' "Forgive me." he mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes and tightening the greaves.

"Oh.. it's-" Diavolo paused reluctantly, then nodded slightly and glanced off towards the door. "Of course. You're forgiven."

He secured the right greave and glanced at himself briefly in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, trying to convince it to lay flat, yet it was adamant to keep its tousled, bed-ruffled look, and there was nothing appropriate, Lucifer figured, about asking to borrow Diavolo's comb.

Taking his dark clothes from the bedside, he cleared his throat softly and nodded to Diavolo. "I'll see you again very soon, my Lord. Please, have a lovely day." The red-haired Demon Lord stared on as if something was wrong, his lips tightening as if he was fighting with the urge to blurt his mind out aloud. Lucifer stalked to the door and opened it as though he were about to sneak away.

"Lucifer?" He turned, hearing Diavolo. He approached softly, the Demon Lord holding himself in a strangely humble, tender way. He paused, their eyes locked. "Be safe up there."

Lucifer smiled and nodded, twisting away and down the hall. He walked briskly, forcing himself to think about anything other than Diavolo- he'd already thought about him enough the night before. He folded his arms and his wings, narrowing his crimson eyes with great focus as he headed east.

His mind wound up rather silent and dull without Diavolo in it. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes tiredly, continuing down the hallways- finally, he began to hear the hum of voices somewhere not far ahead- certainly, it was his younger brothers, indulging in an argument it was doubtlessly far too early in the morning for.

As he started towards the next hall, he left out a deep, exasperated sigh. Mammon was standing in one of the alcoves, attempting, with impressive care, to undress one of the armored stands. Asmodeus stood before him, chiding him, but with the faintest gleam of intrigue in his amber eyes.

Mammon was wearing an ivory-toned exomis, laden heavy with verdant, golden accessories. The golden helm of the stand was on his head, covering his snowy-white hair. He glanced towards Lucifer, his pale blue eyes widening with alarm at the sight of his elder brother. He quickly leapt into the center of the hall, creeping closer to Asmodeus as if in an attempt to shake his guilt.

The Avatar of Lust wore a pale brown himation, a chiton dyed a faint rose color and cinched his waist tightly with a dull, golden-brown soft-band. His tawny hair was bound into a luscious bun and cheeks were rogued. He'd cleaned himself up impressively, judging by the thin look he had about him the previous night.

The long trek to the Devildom had left him looking weary and wobbly in the King's chambers, hanging where his brother's stood. But this morning, he looked as though he'd been born anew, a fresh luster to his skin and lively movement in his feet. Seeing Lucifer, he hugged his wooly himation around himself and shrank away from Mammon. "Good morning," he chirped in a sing-song way. "How much longer do we have now?"

Lucifer cocked a brow, glancing at Mammon. "Not enough time to rob the King's palace. Please, return that."

Mammon frowned, taking the helm from his head and pressing it to his chest with a pleading look in his eyes. "It wouldn't be missed, I'm sure 'uh it," he grinned, desperately. "What if I promised to return it when we got back?"

Unamused, Lucifer wrinkled his sharp nose, scoffing slightly. "Then, I wouldn't believe you." He waved him off. "Put it back now." Mammon sighed, gazing at the shining helmet in his hands, reluctantly returning to the alcove and resting it upon the head of the statue as it was, sulking back towards his brothers, grieving.

Asmodeus tutted softly beneath his breath, eyeing Lucifer warily. He attempted to feign interest in one of the statues as he was ushered down the halls, but the onslaught of an uncomfortable question was thinly veiled. "So!" Asmodeus started with a cheery voice. "I heard Diavolo invited you to his bedchambers last night~"

Lucifer scowled. "A little birdie told me you two stayed up quite late." he continued. "Now, what were you doing with that handsome prince, hm? You shouldn't spare me a detail, now, you'll feel much better once it's all in the air."

Amused, Lucifer snorted. "What a curious thing for the Avatar of Lust to take an interest in. I didn't think you'd have much care for the mundane paperwork of royals."

"You mean to say that you stayed up late doing _paperwork_..?" Asmodeus frowned, creasing his brows and pouting slightly. "How miserable. I can't believe anyone would waste such a rare opportunity… except, of course, you."

Lucifer eyed him steadily, his eyes narrowing slightly like that of a hawk as it honed in on its prey. "Now, who was that little bird you were speaking of?" Asmodeus shrank back with a coy smile. Not minded to bother too deeply- as there really was nothing to gossip about from the previous night- Lucifer shrugged it off.

"'Morning." Mammon whipped around as Beelzebub came up to his left with a taxed look about him. In his arms, he carried his twin brother, still soundly asleep.

"Ah. Good morning, Beel." Belphegor was dressed awkwardly in a midnight-black toga that Beelzebub must have dressed him in himself, as, likewise, Beel wore a fiery red toga in the same slightly awkward way. Both were bound in place at the shoulder by matching golden brooches.

The tall demon's stomach groaned with hunger, causing Belphegor to shift in his sleep. He sighed softly, looking ahead and gnawing worriedly on his bottom lip. With the supply of food already not enough to appease the Devildom's population, the Avatar of Gluttony's cursed gut must have been nothing but a problem for everyone, even in the security of his own region of Hell. It would have been wiser- and kinder- to have kept him in the layer he had been staked out in. Anywhere else, he was surely destined to lose himself to his desire. Lucifer frowned with thought, wondering bitterly why seven demon princes couldn't be better utilized.

Not far ahead, they came across Leviathan and Satan. The lavender-haired admiral of Hell was dressed in a light purple chiton beneath a heavy violet cloak adorned with two large, coin-shaped golden brooches on either side that entailed a great, writhing sea-monster.

The blond demon beside him had aged considerably within the past two centuries. Whereas his earlier human form could have been likened to a human boy fifteen years of age, the creature born from wrath had quickly grown in appearance to resemble a young man recently matured. He wore a somber, black chamlys tied with a circular, golden brooch and a dry-green chiton that made it to his upper-thighs bound with a black soft-band. He wore golden greaves and armlets strangely akin Lucifer's. He seemed to notice the similarities, scowling with distaste at the realization of where the inspiration for his clothes had come from.

Soon now, the seven brothers came to the palace gardens, where Barbatos stood beneath a white gazebo, overlooking the small moonlit lake. He turned towards them, then dipped his head. "It's lovely to see you all on time, my Princes. And all fashionably dressed, no less." he called. "I know it's quite early."

"No matter," Lucifer huffed, taking the lead with a series of powerful steps. He stopped before the gazebo, eyeing warily the sigil drawn in red chalk on the bottom of it. Barbatos watched him coolly, walking around it and to the top of the steps as the rest of his brothers clustered around awkwardly.

"This Circle will be put out of commission shortly after the seven of you use it. You are to use one of the public Circles for return." Barbatos beckoned to the intricate design.

He continued, resting a finger to his chin. "I'm obliged to warn the seven of you, things are not fully steady in the human world. The famine has inspired plenty of demons to seek refuge there; I do fear that angels may be sent down if this persists. Thus, you are urged to refrain from devouring or slaughtering either of the foreign species should you meet them, lest the Treaty of the Celestial War will be threatened. However, this does not extend to any demons you may find. Should anyone cause trouble, you are encouraged to stop them however, whether by tongue or teeth." The demon reported the serious information with a calm smile.

Abruptly he turned and stepped aside, his split tail lashing with excitement he otherwise didn't reveal. "Now, who would like to go first?"

After a quiet moment, Asmodeus paraded up the steps and looked curiously at the sigil. Barbatos smiling, guiding him lightly with his hands. "Be careful not to smudge the chalk."

Asmodeus held his cloak, it's heavy body folding like a raging sea as he eyed Barbatos with a glint in his eyes. The demon butler seemed much more enthralled by his magic however, murmuring in some forgotten tongue and looking over the perfect red lines he'd drawn with satisfaction. In a burst of quickly passing bright light, the fifth-born was gone as though he'd never been there to begin with.

After him, Beelzebub approached, still holding a sleeping Belphegor, who would probably be quite unhappy to awaken in the human world. In following came Leviathan, Mammon, then Satan, until Lucifer stood alone, the final brother.

Barbatos smiled at him and nodded. As he set his foot upon the steps, the small demon started to speak. "It seems you had a very pleasant night with Lord Diavolo," the ancient demon purred teasingly. "I haven't seen him so happy in quite a while. What's your secret?"

Lucifer laughed. "It's nothing, really. We talked and read poetry. I hope our absence for dessert didn't cause you too much of a fright last night."

He shook his head. "I figured you'd taken off for some time alone- then, Lord Diavolo managed to catch me in the corridors." With a laugh, he continued. "Thank you, Prince Lucifer. I'm grateful for you- and, if I may say it, so is Lord Diavolo."

Lucifer stepped onto the sigil, flustered by the earnest praise. He smiled, looking up at Barbatos. "I suppose we shouldn't dawdle. We both have work to get to." Barbatos sighed wistfully and nodded.

"On with it, then..." Barbatos trailed off, glancing at Lucifer's left hand. A fresh smile came upon his face.

"That's truly a lovely ring. I bid you a quick, safe mission." Before Lucifer could respond, he began chanting softly, and Lucifer felt the buzz of magic beneath his feet. He crossed his hands behind his back and stared up at the pinnacle of the gazebo. He could feel the magic overcoming him, tightening around his body like a snake.

" _LUCIFER_!" He jerked, looking down. Diavolo was racing towards him, his eyes huge, alight with a sense of urgency. He gripped the railing, bracing himself, staring at Lucifer intensely. "I- I want to live with you forevermore on the isle-!"

A flash of bright light consumed Lucifer's vision, and Diavolo's voice faded into the fitful chirping of human world birds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B) Three chapters, yay~~~ 
> 
> Anywho, I'm hoping to update a chapter at least weekly from here on out. I'd like to play around a bit more before I solidify any sort of upload schedule. Thanks for reading this far, i promise there'll be an update soon <3 :)


	4. The Dauntless Dame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're in a brilliant fucking situation, now aren't we?" Satan snarled, his sharp tone snapping Lucifer out of his trance. The blond was bristling with irritation. He stopped abruptly, whipping around to face Lucifer- instantly, curving horns bloomed from his skull. "I see that Barbatos was more excited to practice his sigils than see where they lead- go back now and tell him that I swear, I'll split that fucking tail of his further down the middle if he doesn't bring us back this instant."  
> •  
> The brothers arrive in the human world and are instantly greeted with trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GFIHFIUH ACCCCKK sorry for the late update!!- Thank you for bearing with me!  
> There's some mild violence and injuries in this chapter, but nothing too intense.

Four; The Dauntless Dame

> "Come here, brother- let me guess; it's the little things you miss. Spring flowers; autumn leaves. Ask me, brother, and you shall receive." - _Our Lady of the Underground_ , Hadestown

* * *

The dawn sky was bright. It was the color of budding flowers, hues stained with rich golden sunlight- it was bold, defining itself and asserting itself; it was not the night. Bouffant clouds stretched across the vast sky and framed the August sun. Light split through the wooden lattice overhead in thick, glowing drafts and settling onto half of someone's beloved garden.

The humans' harvest season was headed for a blustery end- it was a stunning change of pace from the constant darkness of the Devildom.

The circle had let off into a stranger’s backyard. Two small trees with wide trunks rooted in ceramic pots framed the door, which led into the back of someone's home. Gentle violets flanked each sector of flowers- vivid celosia sprigs, graceful, slouching orchids, and bountifully petaled aster flowers of pink and purple variations grew in ever-changing bouts that formed a makeshift pathway to the the foot of a tiny altar.

Lucifer stood beneath the vine draped veranda, listening to the cacophony of bird songs that had replaced Diavolo's desperate words. He sank, sitting himself down as he tried to piece together what had just happened and what was now happening.

Though he had been torn away from the scene before Diavolo could finish his quote- the blank was enough to fill. But the meaning- he was dumbstruck.

Lucifer’s initial impression was correct. His cheeks warmed with shame. Last night, Diavolo was expecting a passionate and intimate confession of love. and he said Lilith’s name in place of his.

When he had been granted the rare privilege of dropping the honorifics, he wasted a chance to try that lovely name on his tongue in that unfamiliar way. How could he doubt his own impression of his closest friend so dearly?

Lucifer ran his hands through his dark black hair, furrowing his heavy brows. There was no way the future King of Demons was in love with him- that was unreasonable.

But if he was, what did that mean? Was he in love with the angel he spied bathing, or the one he’d guided through the hallowed halls of RAD, or was it the promise he was owed, his body, or something else entirely? And was Lucifer in love? If he was, what were the odds that his love would persist when he eventually reached the same tremendous height as his father?

"We're in a brilliant _fucking_ situation, now aren't we?" Satan snarled, his sharp tone snapping Lucifer out of his trance. The blond was bristling with irritation. He stopped abruptly, whipping around to face Lucifer- instantly, curving horns bloomed from his skull. "I see that Barbatos was more excited to practice his sigils than see where they lead- go back now and tell him that I swear, I'll split that _fucking_ tail of his further down the middle if he doesn't bring us back this instant."

Lucifer glared at him, rising to his feet. Though he certainly wished the same, distraught by the cruel cut off of Diavolo's words, he wouldn't tolerate any vileness directed at the cherished butler. "What in the name of Hell are you talking about?" He stood up, starting towards him, but instantly incurred the cries of his brothers. He reluctantly paused.

“Step back,” Beel softly urged. He raised one of his large hands and rested it against an invisible barrier. “There’s a demon trap.”

Lucifer quickly listened, backing away for good measure. He narrowed his eyes, glancing at the shut door behind him, then glanced back at Satan. The young demon’s bony tail flicked with irritation. Dismayed, Lucifer gritted his sharp teeth and shook his head.

He could see it in the way the young demon moved. Momentarily, Satan would be blind with rage- no thought would go through his head as he divulged in utter madness. His time was greatly limited, and deactivating a demon trap as a demon was no easy feat.

He cleared his throat awkwardly- there wasn’t enough time to do it himself. Satan’s green eyes already were glazing over. “Summon the witch,” he crisply said. A single spell from within the trap would let them know that they’d captured something, like tremors on a spider’s web. “I’ll deal with them.”

His brothers hesitated.

Mammon was the first to obey. He conjured a lively spark near the edge of the trap that quickly faded away.

Lucifer turned to face the door, pushing back his uncombed hair and trying to make himself look as presentable as possible. A small series of tiny sparks of magic lit up the trap as his brothers fought to make themselves unignorable- even so, minutes passed.

After far too long a woman stepped out from the back door.

She stood in the doorframe, her grayish green eyes widening at the sight of Lucifer standing so close. Her golden goblet filled generously with a libation clattered to the ground and stained the grass a dark red as she stumbled backwards recklessly, tripping over her own feet.

Lucifer smirked at her dumbstruck expression as she gawked from beneath her disarranged auburn locks. “Good morning,” he greeted coolly. He beckoned in the direction of the trap. “Would you mind?” The woman stared mutely before leaping to her feet.

“By the Gods…” Lucifer cocked a brow at the witch as her shoulder brushed against his upper arm. She stared at the demons in the trap in amazement, seeming hardly content standing outside the barrier.

Worried by her unorthodox reaction, he leaned in slightly, inconspicuously sneaking a sniff of her. To his relief, she carried the earthy scent of a witch- she smelt of myrtle, rosemary, and a medley of other herbs.

In a fleeting moment, however, the smell of her most recent potions was overwhelmed with a sweeter scent. Lucifer glanced at her with a vague smile, attempting to bury his uneasiness.

The witch smelled corruptible; her soul, still pure but malcontented, suggested she’d make for easy prey and have a rich, rewarding flavor. He caught himself leaning closer half mindedly, tempted by her tantalizing smell.

She turned her head slightly and he did the same. “If we’ve met, you’ll have to remind me of your name,” she mused, squinting her stormy eyes.

Lucifer turned his head fully, meeting her unwavering gaze. “Should I know you?” he asked her. The witch frowned, disheartened. He narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head and trying to muster some empathy. “I’m afraid I’ve been absent from popular affairs for quite some time.”

She wrapped her hands around herself and pouted. “I’m Helene. Helene of Sparta? The Misty-eyes? Cupid’s Nymph? They’ve given me all sorts of names in all sorts of places.” She leaned forward in search of some response or flicker of recognition, but none came from Lucifer.

She lost interest, turning towards Asmodeus and Mammon with a luscious swagger. The two had pressed themselves up against the barrier, desperate for a better look at her.

Even Satan had been distracted from his anger, only the tip of his tail quivering as he eyed Helene with a trace of curiosity and mild impatience behind his green eyes. “Only a few years ago, angels and demons alike were crawling to me. They adored me just as I adored them.”

For a moment, she gained no reply beyond stares. “Then… you died.” Asmodeus awkwardly said, looking upon her with fascination. She looked back at him with a surprised look, lifting her brows.

“Oh? Is that what they think?”

Asmodeus nodded, with a faint, inquisitive frown upon his lips. “But, now, I see you standing, healthy as the Sun is bright.” He leaned forward, flashing a honeyed grin. “I’m glad to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Helene planted her hands upon her hips. “You demons are so much more thrilling to be in the company of than humans or angels. Ever since I’ve been displaced here in Megaris, there’s hardly been a lick of one of your kind. I’ve been miserable.”

“I hate ta hear it.” Mammon told her, a note of sympathy in his voice that made Helene stir, fixating her eyes upon him with a careful smirk. “I wish we could make ya less miserable, but there’s not much we can do from in here.”

Helene nodded. “You’re free.” In turn, Mammon lifted his hand out. It passed the spot where the barrier keeping him contained had been. He grinned at her, then at his brothers behind him.

Lucifer surveyed the four of them. Satan seemed to have relaxed enough to contain himself, satisfied with his newfound freedom, but slank away from the witch and reclined beside her altar with Belphegor and Beelzebub. He laid down closest to Belphegor at the foot of her marble altar.

The seventh-born was distracted, drowsily eying the natural herbs beside them with a vague fondness in his eyes. His amber-haired brother stood at attention, steadily watching Helene.

Leviathan gazed at her with bored disdain, his orange eyes thinning and hardening. Adamantly, Mammon and Asmodeus clung to her, Lucifer noticed Mammon’s nose twitch as though he’d picked up on the same scent he had.

Lucifer was grateful for her brashness in tearing down the trap, yet couldn’t help but pity her. It was good fortune she had been hidden from demons through the duration of the famine. She was courageous as she was witless, made dense from her friendly escapades with demons.

“Thank you for doing away with the trap. We’d best be on our way, now, before we cause you any trouble.” Mammon and Asmodeus set eyes on Lucifer, their discontent piercing his skin. Belphegor looked up with a subtle smile and an aloof chill to his gaze. He pinched a sprig of parsley between two fingers.

“Before we go,” Belphegor said, looking unbothered by the thought of leaving. He turned the parsley over in his hands, padding forward. He stopped in front of Helene, brushing her fiery tresses out of the way and slipping it behind her ear.

She reached for it, frowning and stopping herself before she took it off. Her hand fell, leaving the sprig and resting upon her side. Belphegor seemed disappointed with the lack of any outburst from the rudely-intended gesture.

“The Devildom’s deep in a famine. I’ve gone a day or so without a proper meal.” Helene crossed her arms, scowling and stepping back. Lucifer instinctively drew closer- as did Leviathan and Beel. Satan watched intently, leaning forward ever so slightly. Belphegor scoffed. “You haven’t the foggiest idea how delicious you smell, do you, witch?” he huffed, leveling himself with her eyes.

“Belphegor.” Lucifer spoke in a deep, warning tone, narrowing his eyes with disapproval. Helene brushed him aside.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Her voice had a roughness to it. Belphegor smirked cockily as she snorted and placed her hands upon her sides firmly. “Don’t underestimate me.”

Helene arched a brow as Belphegor took a step forward, despite her words. “I won’t bite if you don’t.” she warily added, taking the parsley and tossing it aside with disgust.

“Belphegor-” Before Lucifer could finish, Helene emitted a shocked noise as the seventh born butted heads with her.

He had shifted into his demon form; his long bovine tail unfurled behind him, and his curling horns developed from his temples, so close to Helene’s own forehead. He set his hands upon her wrists. She ground her teeth, her knuckles bulging as her hands became tight fists.

Lucifer moved forward, reaching for the seventh-born, but a moment too late. Helene’s lips moved as she whispered a spell, her eyes darkening gravely. Belphegor opened his mouth as though to speak, but could hardly form a word before he yelped in agony, his entire body tightening before he recoiled, releasing the witch and hobbling back, only to lose his balance.

Helene inched towards her door, holding her wrist tentatively with shaky hands, a sullen grimace on her face- her lips moved again, but Lucifer was more concerned with his brother. Belphegor held his long tail close- the upper half hung uncomfortably, the bone broken beneath it. His purple eyes were huge and his mouth hung slightly ajar at the sight, dumbfounded and horrified.

It took an average witch much effort to harm a demon prince without any forethought- especially for longer than a moment. But, as a few shock-filled seconds passed and Belphegor’s tail still hung limply, it became clear she was more than an average witch.

Lucifer took her by her shoulders, whirling her around. “Undo the spell,” he demanded darkly, his eyes narrowed. Her prideful glow disappeared- the color left her face. She grew ever paler when she heard the gravelly snarl growing louder from behind her.

Helene began to tremble beneath Lucifer’s grip, staring at Beelzebub. He was in his demon-form, dark stripes lining his body, sharp horns upon his temples, and iridescent wings emitting a droning noise as they beat fiercely. “Beel-”

He took on a charging stance, his sharp, shark-like teeth bared. He held himself back by a thin thread of self-control- Helene placed her hands upon Lucifer’s body, pressing slightly but afraid to push. She was fixated completely on Beelzebub, now, overwhelmed with terror. In a flash of movement, he snapped, barreling after her.

Panic flooded Lucifer. Asmodeus elicited a shriek of terror as Beel came inches from them- with a moment left to spare, he released Helene, shoving her aside and meeting Beel with his forearms. “Stop!” he snarled, instinctively turning to his own demon form. He pounded his dark wings, his great span blocking the space behind him. He felt what he thought was Helene’s shoulder for one beat, then didn’t as his wing passed over the spot again. “Beel!”

He jumped, hearing a slamming door, instantly giving up his fight with Beel to look behind him. The door was shut and Helene was gone. In mere moments, Beel was upon the door. Lucifer spun around, flaring his wings outwards again as his heart sank into his stomach- it was too late to detain him.

But just as he lost all hope for Helene’s safety, the huge demon’s body met the door with an awful _thunk_ to the shock of his brothers who flinched and backed away.

Any other door would have broken into splinters for the demon, almost eight feet tall, four feet wide, and decked with muscles, but this one refused him. Helene must have endowed it with a protective spell.

He fell back in a heap of himself, staring up at the lattice overhead in a concussed stupor, blood welling from his nostrils. Asmodeus slowed down, staring uneasily for a moment, before knocking on the door hurriedly.

Leviathan covered his mouth in shock and Mammon shot upright, his blue eyes wide. The dusky-skinned demon brushed past Lucifer, kneeling by his younger brother, splayed out and gawking on the ground. “Beel, ya good?”

Beel grunted in wearisome approval. He didn't seem too 'good.'

“Helene?” Asmodeus softly whimpered, creeping up to the door and conjuring no reply, beyond furious scowls. “Helene, please come back! My little brothers won't hurt you again!~” Belphegor clenched his jaw, holding his tail gently and closely and twisting his head to the side with an icy look.

Satan sighed coarsely. “I believe she did the majority of the hurting.”

“Oh. Thanks, Satan.” Belphegor glared, wrinkling his nose and rolling his eyes. “If I’d known she was so powerful, I would have won.”

Lucifer emitted an exasperated sigh, glancing at Mammon and Beel, still dazed. “Can either of you walk?” he asked, his question directed at the twins.

Belphegor reluctantly stood up, unbalanced as he held his broken tail. He moved his feet bunglingly, teetering without his tail to balance, then relented, plopping back down with a curt head shake.

Beel made a low sound and continued laying flat on the ground. Mammon looked down at him, then back up at Lucifer. “Give him'a minute...” Beel managed to heave himself upright slowly, gripping at Mammon for assistance. Mammon tenderly wiped his bloody nose with his wrist, knotting his snowy brows.

Lucifer shook his head tiredly. “The witch told us we’re in Megaris; there’s a magic circle in the Devildom that leads to the town, correct?”

“Correct,” Satan said, lifting Belphegor up. “There’s a tavern in town near it. I’m acquainted with the owner- he's a sorcerer. He or his patrons- if he still deals with demons- might have information on Virgil. Either way, we can stop there to recover and get a better sense of our bearings."

“Very well. It sounds efficient,” Lucifer nodded keenly. He glanced at Belphegor, reluctantly clearing his throat. “Can you change form?”

Belphegor looked miserably to the side, irritated by the situation he’d found himself in. “..No. I'm stuck.”

Lucifer sighed, then beckoned to Asmodeus. “Your cloak, please. You'll get it back in due time.” The fifth-born stared at him, his eyes wide and defensive. Lucifer glared coolly. “ _Now,_ Asmodeus.” He winced, rattled by the unsettling growl of his voice, before reluctantly trudging forward and yielding his himation.

Lucifer passed it to Belphegor. “Cover yourself with that. For the sake of everyone’s sanities, make sure your tail of yours is _completely_ out of sight. Satan, I trust you’ll help him?”

Belphegor absent-mindedly nodded, a miserable, frustrated frown on his face as he accepted Satan’s assistance in putting the cloak on around himself.

Lucifer took his place at the head of the scruffy crew, navigating them over Helene’s garden, down a walk path alongside her terrace vineyard. Afterwards, his position was taken by Satan, but not his purpose. They walked across a dirt path made for merchants to the far outskirts of a sleeping village. It wasn’t too far, but accompanied by six restless demons, however- two angry, one concussed, one idiotic, one narcissistic, and one awkward- the trip became a journey.

Mammon had to be held for safe measure when walking past a snoring merchant’s encampment and Belphegor snarled as though he’d do something if he was any less pained by his injury. Beel staggered so loosely he had to be supported by Lucifer and Mammon, halfway leaning closer to one and being corrected recurrently, his body recovering at a rate rather slow for a demon- it wasn’t until they had almost arrived that he could walk on his own in a straight line. Asmodeus’s voice sounded incessantly with words the eldest didn’t bother to hear, until Satan turned his head and bit back, leading to a stark and abrupt end. When they first stepped into the quiet town, Leviathan fell back and reached over, grabbing Lucifer’s free hand. He warily examined every opening in every building he spotted as though he suspected an ambush. Lucifer didn’t bother to shake him loose, knowing it was of no use.

Finally, they arrived at the end of town where a wide, shanty tavern stood, drooling with withered black vines akin in appearance to the creepy, shadowy limbs of little demons. The windows emitted a fierce yellow glow and the sound bursting with life and a lack of decency he hadn’t expected from any account he’d received- and even less so in the dead of the morning. It reminded him of one of the rundown, unhinged clubs at the far reaches of the Devildom, where only the lowliest demons gathered.

Lucifer stopped before it with an ounce of doubt that he quickly extinguished. He came forward and opened the door with an elegant push. He stiffened as the tavern’s glow enveloped him and his brother’s, who clustered at his side. “For Hell’s sake…” he muttered, a tiredness glittering in his eyes as he overlooked the scene before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥ I really appreciate all the kudos and comments I've gotten, thank you all so much!!! You guys are super sweet and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA it makes me so happy!!


	5. Theoxenia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “By no recount do I recall this-” Lucifer quickly hushed Satan, with a motion of his hand. The blond looked up at him, wrinkling his nose.
> 
> “Just act natural.” he ordered, his voice slow as he tried to evaluate the colorful situation. “Avoid engaging with the demons, lest they recognize any of us. Now, split up.”
> 
> •
> 
> Lucifer and his brothers encounter a scene at the tavern- and things quickly go downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry for the wait, again! I'm still working out a bit of a schedule- I thought I'd be much better with that, but, uhhh... I guess I should have known myself better- :'D But, here's an extra long chapter that I edited twice- for no real reason, heh!
> 
> I,,, I looked over this chapter so many times but,, aghhhh- I really hope I didn't miss too many errors or make anyone too OOC......!! I might still go back and edit this but gOGJFGHTRHRTJ,THRTJHJRTHTK aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
> 
> Here are the CONTENT WARNINGS for this chapter! :  
> Fighting/violence, super brief blood mention, death (of non-canon characters), and mild swearing.

Five; Theoxenia

> “You suitors who plague my mother, you, you insolent, overweening … for this evening let us dine and take our pleasure, no more shouting now. What a fine thing it is to listen to such a bard as we have here— the man sings like a god.” - _Book I: Athena Inspires the Prince_ , Robert Fagle’s translation of Homer’s _The Odyssey_

* * *

The tavern was alive with an unusual company; the inside smelled of witches with their decadent, corruptible, and earthy smells nauseatingly prominent- a trace of demon’s scents accompanying them underwhelmingly. The whole magic-user population of Megaris must have gathered, excusing only Helene.

A witch who smelled like oleanders was petting her crepuscular raven familiar beneath his sleek beak, completely ignoring the new arrivals at the door. Plenty more spanned out across the entire interior, lounging upon the six benches around the building and gathering like grapes throughout the establishment. Dozens of familiars crawled, let to roam by their masters; a testament, beside the smell, to the sheer amount of witches and wizards crammed into one place.

Lucifer’s gaze panned towards a side room hidden behind the masses of magic-users and the wall, where he thought heard voices being raised especially loudly.

“By no recount do I recall this-” Lucifer quickly hushed Satan, with a motion of his hand. The blond looked up at him, wrinkling his nose.

“Just act natural.” he ordered, his voice slow as he tried to evaluate the colorful situation. “Avoid engaging with the demons, lest they recognize any of us. Now, split up.”

They dispersed quickly.

Lucifer took to the one side no-one had taken to, his left, with Levi creeping behind in his shadow. His younger brother pinned himself to the first corner he reached, but Lucifer brushed past him and headed directly towards the farthest table. There, shifted into his true-form, a demon was drinking and reading from a leather bound book with a beautifully fashioned lyre. Without knowing his name, and doubting he’d ever learn it, he decided to dub him the Lyrist in ode to the prized possession.

He stopped near the edge of the bench to listen, almost certain he knew what he’d be spewing to his esteemed listeners.

_“I lived with you in bosky Arcadia,_

_hand-in-hand in a rocky nymphaeum._

_Trouble we were bereft of._

_Consumed by thoughts to make love._

_Together we lived like self-righteous Kings-_ ”

Even though he knew this was one of the rare moments no eyes were on him and he could relax without worry, Lucifer instinctively forced a smile. That was- as he’d suspected- the work of Virgil.

Trying not to look at the Lyrist, he looked straight on, spotting a familiar patch of blond hair. Satan peered into the side-room. The new angle that Lucifer had adopted revealed what was inside- his heart sank. Four demons were gathered in what appeared to be a kitchen, surrounding four bound figures. One was rifling through cabinets while two stood guard, front-facing in the far back. The fourth, a female with dark hair, seemed to be speaking with them.

He caught a glimpse of their hostages. A young mortal man with swooping blond hair sat perfectly still, his eyes wide as if he was stunned, huddled close to a silver-haired older man, his face crumpled with contempt. A man and woman dressed unmistakably in Celestial uniforms turned their heads as the dark haired demon looked down upon them.

She knelt down derisively, taking the female’s face and squeezing her cheeks. She said something, then waltzed back into the bustling company of magic users. Satan quickly turned around, crouching out of sight- to pet someone’s familiar, he assumed. He lost her somewhere in a mixer on the far right, denoting the very moment with a tiny scoff, his false smile falling into a scowl.

The Lyrist caught his attention again when he set down his emptied kylix with a gentle echo. All eyes fixed upon him suddenly as though he’d banged a judge’s gavel, watching as he laid down the book and queued his long orange hair out of his face by binding it with another lock. With the utmost care, he picked up his lyre and rose to his feet.

He looked over the intent crowd and chuckled with a modest smile, fixing a crown of flowers wrapped around his long horns, and sticking his chest out.

His black-and-orange goat tail wiggled behind him- Lucifer smirked with amusement, seating himself carefully at the edge of the bench behind him. He drew his plectrum elegantly across the strings, eliciting an angelic tune that juxtaposed the aesthetic of the gathering.

* * *

‘Once, a wispy seedling came to a garden green,

Where upon, drifting slowly through the morning sheen,

He came across a sorority of Roses, prudently bred

Bathing in the golden sunlight that filled their elevated bed.

Their beauty was breathtaking,

and with want he was aching

So while admiring the Roses,

he, in his great awe, had frozen

And the queenly flowers looked upon the sprout with wonder

"Strange flower, from where did you come?"

The Roses, leaning out from the sunlight, softly pondered,

"Was it from the dew that you sprung?

It is so strange, you've grown so fast before our bed,

You now wear a handsome white mane upon your head."

Finding his words he replied,

"Your comment fills me with pride,

to be complimented by flowers so sublime

has made my unwilling journey worth all the time.

Alas, my home is unknown,

For some ages I have flown

I've been over pasture and knoll

Travels vaster than you could know.

But never before have I seen anything as lovely as you,

who are so godly in your personal bed, a sight to behold.

Dearest Roses, how I wish I could lie with you, but to this place I am confined,

Alas- but, at least, I have a good view from which to admire your refined design."

Charmed, the roses laughed and beamed

"In manners you are esteemed,

Perhaps we could venture from our bed

and then we could come to you instead."

The flower lit up with joy and nodded, his wispy hairs taking off with the wind.

And the roses went about plotting how to unite with their kind and comely friend.

One fair and beautiful Rose, above all, had fallen for the vagabond flower.

She was the boldest and the bravest and was set on being with him.

She longed to leave the bed she was born in long ago from a midsummer shower

and she dreamed of taking to the wild earth with a lover on a whim.

So she spent the most time ruminating,

until she was struck with inspiration.

"Let us all grow past the barrier and out towards the grass.

My sisters, we shall all amass!

Let us grow fast, let us be as untamable as the wind.

Now, no more shall we be confined!"

Spirited, the Roses began to grow like a wildfire

their pert red bodies becoming too heavy for their briars.

Even so, they relentlessly grew- and so did the hairs that the “flower” had shed.

If the Roses had a bit more patience, they may have realized they'd been misled

By a weed who had not yet even realized his own greed

As he watched the Roses grow while his own seeds bred by their feet.

These young Dandelions knew their name and knew their purpose,

so, dutifully, they bloomed in their heads in surplus

They killed the Roses, leaving their growing bodies wilted before they could stop and see the weeds.

The bold Rose persisted until she grew too weak and had no choice but to look down her roots,

becoming aware of the weeds in her bed she brimmed with dread and silently began to plead.

In moments, she came to realize what the plant she had fallen in love with was in truth.

"Ah me, I see now what you are! I have damned my sisters to a death and the roots of your kin."

The vagrant Dandelion looked and saw the weeds, scourging the source of the briar brush and bathing in the petals of the fallen.

"Oh, Rose! Had I known such evils were inside me, I would not have come to your garden, wherein

They have killed your sisters fair and kind. I'm so sorry, beloved Rose- please let me join you in weeping for the lives now stolen."

She made no protest and let him grieve with her.

His weeds nulled her own steady growth when they became wild and overgrown.

She found solace in her hard lover’s whispers

for they lulled her guilty mind asleep while his children usurped her throne.

At last, the sorry Rose, she lifted her withering head,

Knowing that she was soon to met the fate her sisters led,

she began to sadly speak,

momentarily less weak.

“I love you, but no more can I withstand your oppression,

For, my loving lord, I am slipping into obsession.

You squeeze these roots of mine with your own out of love,

but see now that it is robbing me of my life

Please, my Dandelion, you and our children hold me too tight,

and now, dear weed, my petals once adored are black as night.

If you love me so, darling, untie our roots

Leave my dismal bed and take with you your fruits.”

She said these words in a tone so simple, desperate and clear,

But, alas, when the crowned Dandelion regarded his wilted bride,

Though he heard her, the weed could not understand the content of her cries.

And he did not see her splendor fading as she neared her demise.

For, to him, she was still as lovely and alive as a morning sunrise.

Why his dearest darling wept he pondered

So her grieving tears fell like morning dew

He hadn’t slept by the time morning wandered.

Pain ensued when the pallid dawn came through

And all that remained of her; an echo untrue

to the queenly splendor that long ago she knew.’

* * *

Lucifer lowered his brows hearing the smattering of applause to follow. When at last it died down, Belphegor rose from his seat, hidden among the witches on the middle-bench on the right. He let the borrowed himation fall to his shoulders but kept his broken tail close to himself and away from attention. Behind him stood Beel and Mammon- certainly, they too had been spotted. Lucifer’s heart skipped a panicked beat as the trio garnered everyone’s attention. _What is he doing?_

The goat-demon flinched, visibly uncomfortable at the sight of the seventh prince and two of his brothers. “He really is brilliant, wouldn’t you say?” Belphegor called from across the room, grinning at the demon. The Lyrist’s eyes roved over the room, but he didn’t spot the other four brothers so easily. “Your performance was stellar, too. You’re talented with the lyre as he is with the pen. The combination of you both- it’s otherworldly.”

“Th-thank you.” he dipped his head, his voice low and polite. When he looked up, his gaze hardened with uncertainty. “You’re serious?”

Belphegor snorted with a sneer. “I was fortunate enough to be in the company of Duke Malephar when he happened to come across Virgil's poem about him. He was livid- I’ve been a fan since.” He grinned. “He’s fascinating- exactly what Hell’s needed for so long.”

The demon failed to stifle a laugh, giggling quietly with amusement, his eyes lighting up brightly.

The dark-haired demon who had mocked the angels emerged from the crowd with an unamused scowl, focused on her companion- who’s amusement promptly faded- before her attention turned to Belphegor. “What about the one about your friend?” She pointed towards Beel.

Belphegor’s face fell with sudden irritation while Beel frowned with confusion. “.. my brother?”

“Yes. Your brother,” she continued. “You know what he’s done- he’s a food-hoarder! At least, when he's not cannibalizing other demons!” Beel looked toward his feet soberly, clutching his left wrist with his right hand. “He’s a monster among monsters!”

Belphegor narrowed his eyes. “My brother is not a monster.” He sounded as though he were prepared to explain his position, but was interrupted.

“Lookee- here’s another!” the speaker’s voice was gruff and deep. Lucifer turned his head, pursing his lips tensely, seeing where the crowd parted with a murmur of unhappy surprise. One of the demons who’d been standing guard in the kitchen had emerged and discovered Satan. He held the male angel beneath his arm and clutched Satan by his hair with the other.

The angel raised his voice from behind his gag, frantic. Belphegor paused, pursing his lips and glancing at the Lyrist. “..Why is that angel tied up?”

The dark-haired demoness scowled, her sleek, tufted tail unfurling from her back and lashing carefully in it’s confined space and her curved horns developing. “We’re here to send a message.”

Belphegor nodded briefly. “I can see... what I mean is what sort of.. message are you planning on sending?”

“You’ll see- but we wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for our guests!” the Lyrist announced firmly, stepping off the bench that had acted as his stage. The air had grown thick with tension, encaptivating a crowd too comfortable to react, as far as Lucifer could see. He chuckled lowly. “Col. Are you ready for the final act?”

The demon who’d been in the kitchen crept before the Lyrist who beckoned towards the crowd. “You’re all sure to be left speechless by the trick we have planned. Make room for my friend.” They hesitantly obliged, making a path for the young, russet-haired demon to reach the center.

He set down a tiny sachet and loosened the opening- Lucifer noted the way his hands seemed to tremble as he stared into its contents with a bitter reluctance. He wasn’t deterred, though, as the sachet was consumed in a flash of amber flame. The smoke it fostered gathered up against the ceiling with a purple-ish hue and diffused.

Lucifer jerked to move, but then noticed how the humans began to stoop, collapsing where they stood like flies. Those who fled to the door found it locked by some magic spell and fell into a heap of themselves before they could plot against it. He hastily noticed four more demons, showing off their horns, leathery wings, and tails, near the front of the building. He glanced towards the back yet, he didn’t manage to get a clear count before he knew he was drawing attention to himself.

A pungent flowery scent had filled his nose- it was a sleeping spell modified to only affect humans and nothing more dangerous- but he had mere heartbeats to decide how to react; to lie in wait or strike instantly.

When Barbatos had proposed it as an option, killing demons hadn’t seemed like anything too troubling. At one point in time, it had been almost commonplace for him- but something about _this_ scenario felt terribly immoral.

The demons were crazed, clearly, to be driven to this point. Lucifer, pitying them, set his head down upon the table limply, deciding to stay inconspicuous and wait- just for a moment, at the very least. The Lyrist appeared to like Belphegor- part of him hoped he could dissuade him from whatever horrid crime he had planned.

He heard the last of the witches and sorcerers falling- the Lyrist acknowledged his success with a brief bout of clapping and laughter. “Great work!”

Another demon farther from the table emitted a coarse chuckle- he recognized Asmodeus’s gasp and an uncomfortable hum from Beel. Someone shuffled their feet uneasily, but he couldn’t determine who or if they were a rebel or one of his brothers.

Belphegor cleared his throat. “I’m sure there are better ways; I do think I know what you’re saying, and I don’t think it’s wise to perturb the angels.”

A disappointed silence followed. “He’s envious,” a new demoness hissed- her voice was vile and ragged, as though the sound were scraping against her vocal chords.

The Lyrist chuckled. “I see… why don’t you take the honors?” Though he couldn’t see him, he could imagine the incredulous look Belphegor put on. “I’d love to see how you kill your prey.”

Belphegor chuckled, taking a retreating step. “I’m not interested.”

A new demon snickered, his voice coming from the right side near the front of the building. “Hell below, are you sure you aren’t another one of those witless nobles who sucks the King’s toes?”

The Lyrist and his company cackled- Lucifer could manage to count, but knew that there were many- six more than he had counted before, including the new speaker.

The Lyrist, so close to Lucifer, sucked in his breath through his teeth as though he was spontaneously leaning forward- Belphegor grunted uneasily. “What tastes better, I wonder? Diavolo’s nipples or human flesh? You could probably let us know, couldn’t you?” Once more, even without his sight, he could imagine Belphegor’s face twisted with shock and disgust at the very notion of having anything to do with Diavolo. Even his own eyelids twitched with discontent, however, hearing his leering tone.

“..Don’t talk to me that way.” Belphegor warned, ending with a seething noise he seemed to try to play off as a small growl- his tail must have twitched.

The demons broke out into wild laughter in response, finding that particularly amusing. Judging by their courage in the face of several highly esteemed demons and the multitude of their laughter, Lucifer assumed their numbers were vast.

“C’mon, now.” The Lyrist chuckled. Lucifer’s hands turned to fists, the corner of his lips pulling tightly in his ‘sleep.’ “Really, what tastes better; Diavolo’s nipples or human flesh?” Not only was this an insult to his dear younger brother, but his beloved Prince. The Lyrist had exhausted the last of his patience and killed his pity.

He shot upright, took the demon’s lyre in his hand as he sprang upon the tabletop. The Lyrist hadn’t even managed to turn halfway before he brought it down upon his head, splitting the strings against his skull. He pulled the lyre back, catching his throat against the thick, lower bar as he held the curving sides like handles.

The demon sputtered in shock, gripping the lower bar and failing to make a noise as it pressed against his throat. He heard an eruption of movement and shrieks of the lesser demons as the tavern was plunged into a sudden skirmish.

His red eyes shot up, realizing he forgot to take an inventory of all the demons present- but now there was too much action and sound to discern anything, and three demons overtook his view of the tavern.

He pulled the Lyrist back towards him, still holding tight to the lyre, and locked him again the bar and the long table top, intent on keeping the Lyrist. A head slammed against his shoulder- he quickly pushed against it, tilting the lyre with him. A set of teeth met his upper arm on the other side- scoffing, he shoved the assailant off with a forceful jerk. The third reached for the lyre. Lucifer pulled it back harder, eliciting a choked cry from the Lyrist that instantly convinced the third to retreat.

The third demon glared at him with determination, carefully looking over his hands as Lucifer wrestled back his companions with his arms and elbows for a second time.

But, before the demon could come up with a plan to rescue the Lyrist, he let out a blood-curdling scream that left his companions frozen and muted in the grip of icy terror. The Lyrist went rigid next, eliciting an awful cry that grated its way through his agonized airways- one of the demons was caught off guard, flinching and falling off of the table top. Glancing at it, he took a note of the headless body lying not far, and knew the third demon, trembling with his back turned, must have been standing before the estranged head.

“THERE ARE MORE!” Satan shouted. Lucifer whipped his head around, looking towards the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of Beel, streaked with blood, his purple eyes wide as he looked into the kitchen. He charged past Satan, who was preoccupied with one of the thickset demons who’d been guarding the hostages. Russet-haired Col, two imps, and a blond demoness fled as he approached- Beel swung his body like he wanted to give chase, but changed his mind just as quickly.

Lucifer realized he’d left his neck exposed and pointed towards his remaining attacker, undaunted by the body, a moment too late. Their teeth embedded themselves into Lucifer’s neck before he could turn. They held fast, so he let go of one handle of the lyre, digging his nails into their face blindly until they loosened their hold enough to wedge himself free and shove them off the platform.

The Lyrist emitted an agonized, raspy noise, trying one to wedge himself in a corner and slip out- Lucifer pulled back on the lyre again, like a bit in a horse’s mouth. “Please!” he managed miserably. Hesitant, Lucifer loosened his hold slightly. “Please!” he said, a clearer now, but still strained.

A sudden scream broke out near the kitchen- before he could think to stop himself, he looked up, only seeing splotches of color- oranges and blacks- before looking down. The Lyrist managed to escape, but didn’t have enough strength to hold himself. He fell down onto the ground, nothing but his horns and tail to differentiate him from the humans stricken with sleep around him.

Lucifer leapt down from the bench, met by a terrible clamor of protest from the two grieving demons. The demon he had knocked off the bench a moment ago scrambled onto the table- without a shred of patience, he whirled around, the lyre meeting their temple and audibly making contact. He charged forward with an unhappy scowl.

The Lyrist emitted a terrible cry of agony, turning over and crumpling in on himself. Lucifer rose the lyre overhead, his features contorted with fury.

“COWARD!” One of the rebels near the back was screaming so shrilly that Lucifer had to see who had produced it. He barreled into the kitchen, moving in a blur that he couldn’t satisfyingly interpret. “YOU BASTARD DEVIL!” Satan collided with him, trying to force him backwards as he surveyed the outside of the kitchen, grasping something tightly in one of his hands. His green eyes shot towards Lucifer, settling when they met.

He drew his arm back, thrusting something across the room- a sly grin split across his face. Lucifer froze, smelling the sweet scent of lavender before it collided with his face, overwhelming his senses- it warmed his face when it went up in a burst of flame just after making contact. Another sleep inducing trick- but this time, for demons.

He felt his eyelids sinking and his knees going weak beneath his own weight, the rich scent making him dizzy. His vision darkened as he sank to the floor, gravity weighing down on him.

* * *

Lucifer awoke to a fading nausea. He sat up, pressing a hand to his brow. “Get enough sleep, brother dearest?” His crimson eyes exhaustedly turned towards Belphegor, laying on his belly and still fully shifted. He glanced towards his little brother’s tail. It was still bent and broken.

“Where are we?” His gaze shifted around the lowly lit room, cool and dank. His feet had stayed warm, however, from beneath a woolen sheet he must have wrestled off during his sleep.

He looked to his right, at an abandoned basin, a bloodstained linen towel hanging haphazardly from the side. A dying lantern burned from just behind the demons, dripping its last few droplets of wax into the golden puddle forming beneath it.

“A room to the side of the tavern.” Belphegor stretched carefully. “Moeris- the old sorcerer- offered to let us stay.” He yawned, stretching his body and hugging the pillow firmly. “He’s helping me, too.. so I guess I can tolerate him. He’s making lousy progress though. It’s nearly night.”

Lucifer straightened his back, alert. “It was morning when-” he hesitated. “How long has it been?”

“Hours.” Belphegor sighed wispily.

“And you’re still hurting. That Helene… she must be powerful.” Lucifer narrowed his eyes, setting his gaze absentmindedly on the sheets piled at his feet. “I’m surprised I haven’t even heard of her… I want to know more.” Belphegor emitted a miserable noise, burying his head into the pillow and tousling his hair into a dark mess. “Does that upset you, now?”

His upper body shot up. “She humiliated me, Lucifer! Everyone’s probably laughing at me- except for Beel, who’s too busy _pitying_ me, like I’m some helpless thing! All of this morning he just- he just _stared_ at me with this- this _look_!” He scowled, wrinkling his nose bitterly and flopping back down upon the bed.

He clenched his jaw rolling his eyes, and added, “If it’s never the same, I swear to the Kings, I’ll head back to her house and eat her raw in front of her entire family.”

Lucifer grimaced uneasily. “I beg you don’t.”

Belphegor snorted, but the door creaked tentatively before he could reply, catching their attention.

Moeris stood in the doorway with a handful of herbs and knotted brows. He looked up, stiffening as he noticed Lucifer had stirred.

“Greetings,” Lucifer purred, leaning forward. “I hope my brothers and I haven’t been an inconvenience to you. You’re Moeris, correct?”

The human with the silvery hair nodded, his eyes shooting to the side warily. Lucifer chuckled. “Relax. I’m here on behalf of the King. I’m searching for a criminal who may have passed through this town, and, if so, quite possibly your tavern. His name is Virgil. He is described as having light blue hair-” Moeris’s eyes fluttered in surprise. “- I don’t imagine you have too many patrons with such unique hair. Is it familiar somehow?”

“There was such a demon here yesterday. He walked in seeming nothing short of breathless. He tried to tie the door shut behind him with his cloak and wore snakes like jewelry.” Moeris crossed his arms with uncertainty. Lucifer was filled with a warm sense of victory- of all the places he could have gone, he happened to land in Megaris, too. “I was surprised to find he was so coherent and civilized when I spoke to him. Most demons need to be thrown out these days, they’re all so.. vicious.”

“I… see.” Lucifer tightened his jaw. The famine situation was spilling over into the human world- this easily explained the angels who had been captured alongside the humans. It seemed Barbatos might have understated the stakes; Micheal was evidently already deploying angels to smother ravenous demons’ assaults.

“That’s all I know, though. My apprentice sat and spoke with him for sometime, so perhaps he might have learned something you can use.” Lucifer nodded in comprehension, slinging his legs over the bed and strapping his sandals on before rising to his feet.

Moeris stepped to the side as Lucifer rose to his full height, his eyes skimming over his frame fleetingly. “Ah- and the angels just asked about you. They’ve been in the goat pen outside, waiting to speak with you… they haven’t told me what about.”

“I’m impressed with their patience,” Lucifer mused, arching his brows and casting his gaze towards the door ahead of him. “I’ll entertain them. Thank you for everything, Moeris.” He swept towards the door with a few graceful, long strides, then lingering before it.

He turned his head with a grin one last time before leaving. “Be good now, Belphegor,” he dryly teased, slipping out of sight.

He surveyed the outdoors. Two black goats looked up at him, the farthest bleating and resuming to snuff the earth beneath it as the other bounded over to the fence and quickly checked behind itself with wide golden eyes.

The night sky overhead was a rich wine-blue to lavender gradient, dotted with hundreds of miniscule stars. The thinnest trace of the sun was disappearing behind distant mountaintops, too impatient to wait a few hours longer for the brothers to leave Megaris. He grimaced, embarrassed he had been the cause of so much lost time.

Lucifer’s eyes followed the facade, where he saw the angels- he unfurled his wings, hoping that his demon-form might make up for the disheveled state he imagined he was in by now and discourage any potential offense.

The female sat cross-legged, cupping a young gray goat’s face in her hands and the male smiled upon it fondly. When they noticed him, both were swift to stop and stand shoulder to shoulder at attention. In a moment, they became impervious and lost any sense of fascination they had shown only momentarily.

“Greetings.” He came closer, being mindful of their uneasiness. They seemed unaware of how to react, their eyes shooting towards each other, critically watching for what to do. Lucifer was made ascertain they were angels long after he was when all they could do in response was stare. “I’m told you wanted to speak with me.”

The female’s lips parted and pursed as she reluctantly searched for her words. “Indeed,” she managed, in a thin way. She drew her breath in, her voice and posture matching that of someone more astute in a matter of moments, just as easily as she had moved on from the goat. “We desired to thank you.”

It didn’t surprise him too terribly to think of an angel lingering with their saintly patience to simply thank someone- but to thank a demon- better yet, a fallen angel- seemed strangely out-of-character. “I suspect there’s more?”

“Indeed,” she repeated, regretful. “We have no choice but to take news of your arrival directly to Micheal.”

Lucifer slowly nodded, knowing there would be no point in protesting- besides, he would rather Micheal know he and his brothers were in the human world than discover it of his own accord. If tensions were high as they seemed, his trust was valuable. “Very well then. I understand.”

The male nodded, speaking at last. “Thank you. We’ll be sure to mention our rescue to Micheal in our report. I’m sure he’ll consider this mission kindly and give you demons the appropriate space to conduct it.”

“We were hoping you could provide some clarification for our report,” the female bluntly continued, her Aegean gaze unmoving as boulders. “Communication with the demons of the Devildom has been poor and there has been no explanation for their especially abhorrent behavior. Would you be willing to elaborate on your state of affairs?”

Her tone was leering as an angel’s could be.

“That much is none of your concern,” Lucifer assured her sharply, narrowing his eyes distastefully. “Just know that our leaders are working hard to resolve these issues.” He could sense her doubt. It was only fair, as the Avatars- the lesser princes themselves- were closer to her than the King, in the human world, _not_ resolving any issues.

“ _Ophanim_ ,” the male scolded in a low voice, kicking her ankle when he noted the cold tone Lucifer had used. Ophanim broke her staid gaze, looking sidelong towards her brother with humiliation.

Lucifer sighed softly, relenting his anger in favor of a shinier report to Micheal. “Tell Micheal he has nothing to worry about- the Devildom will sort itself out soon and I will ensure my brothers behave.”

“We will, then.” The male smiled. “I wish you and your brothers a pleasant evening and I thank you for seeing us. We will be g-”

“Hold on, Morael.” Lucifer was torn between respecting Ophanim’s stubbornness or despising her for it. She faced him with a stoic seriousness in her eyes. Her chest heaved with an uneven breath, but otherwise she didn’t betray her confidence. “The demon who helped me- is something wrong? I noticed his tail looked off when he unbound me and now he’s been in that room for hours.”

Lucifer chuckled, impressed. He hadn’t expected the angels to notice, let alone care. “Aren’t you an observant one?” he hummed, his gaze hardening suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

Ophanim crossed her arms. “He helped me, so it’s only fair that I help him. If he is injured, I can heal him, unlike any demon and faster than any witch.” She lowered her brows, suddenly serious. “Do you trust me?”

Moeris was struggling- hours into the day with such little progress proved that. He wasn’t a terrible witch, but it was likely Helene was a greater one and had placed a burden of a curse on it. If the witch himself wasn’t grateful for Ophanim’s help, Belphegor surely would be.

He suddenly sensed his demon form was no longer appropriate. Lucifer ruffled his wings before reluctantly doing away with them and shifting his to human form. He ensured his posture was straight, trying to make up for where his grooming fell short. “I shall-” he slowed noticing Beel as he leaned into sight from the doorway.

There was a plaintive look about him, a trace of concern Lucifer could describe in no other way than motherly in his violet gaze. He clutched the door frame firmly, instantly looking down at his feet when he was spotted. Lucifer relented, sighing. “..What is it?”

Beel hesitated thoughtfully before he ducked beneath the too-small door and stepped out into the open, anxiously caressing his own wrist as though to comfort himself. He chewed- a spectacle rare to see from the sixth born- something in his mouth then swallowed before he spoke- which was even rarer. “I was going to visit Belphie.” he said. “You’ve already been in that room most of the day. If you were planning on supervising, let me do it instead.”

“Ah…” Lucifer glanced at Ophanim, who didn’t seem particularly daunted by Beel. “..Very well, then.”

Beel nodded firmly, glancing at her with a grateful smile. Ophanim grinned and Morael offered him a slight, respectful nod- saving them from hungry demons must have put them on friendly terms.

“Thank you.” Lucifer dipped his head. Beel copied before starting towards the door. Ophanim fell into place beside him with a graceful swagger distinctly different from the thickset demon’s heavy footfalls. Morael watched them for a moment before catching up with the pair and marching alongside his sister.

They slipped inside the room, Beelzebub shutting the door rather gently behind them.

Lucifer’s breathing turned to a sigh as he turned to leave himself- but, before he could take a step, the gray goat bumbled daringly into his path, wiggling its rump like the Lyrist had before his big performance. Its knobbly knees spread and it ducked its scruffy head downward to show off the tiny stumps that were its budding horns.

He sneered with amusement. The goat sprang forward with grace and levity, taking this as an acceptance of his invite. Its head met his just shy of his groin, then it sprang back with a cheeky tilt of its head and a gleam in its blue eyes.

Lucifer jerked backwards with surprise, hiding the afflicted region should the goat think to try again. He was more shocked than hurt- his face contorted with rage, and jaw clenching. _The nerve of this goat,_ he glared at it, grinding his teeth as it continued to mockingly shake its head. _If it wants to fight so badly, I will fight it. I’ll put this wretched thing in its place._

It would be crude of him as a guest to kill his host’s goat- but he certainly could reduce it to groveling. Surely, taming a goat was a guestly thing to do.

He shifted into his demon form, his wings flaring outward in a dark display. He knelt downwards slightly, gauging the goat’s reaction- it interrupted his processing by bounding for him, catching its head between the demon’s horns.

It screamed in terror when the demon snarled at it, and risked a slight glance to notice the jagged teeth he bared. It was frozen still with fear for a moment, then struggled to free its horns for a frantic moment before scrambled off towards the fencing.

Where he suspected it would stop, the goat wedged itself between the two wooden parts of the fence. The top plank lifted upwards just enough to let the animal through, letting it disappear behind the other wall. His heart sank into his stomach as he watched its stumpy gray tail tip disappear out of sight.

As he raced to the fence, he noticed deep, gnawed in grooves to both parts that held the fence together, some marks ancient and others relatively fresh. A goat must have begun on it a while ago, judging by the weathering that had affected the deepest parts. Leaping over it with ease, he sprinted forward, grabbing the hollering goat’s waist before it could flee again.

Its teeth crashed in a vain attempt to grab a linen tarp like it would have helped it hold fast. When the irritable demon forced it backwards, into his arms, he noticed the humanoid shapes beneath it, one in particular catching his eye. Fingers, wrapped around a lyre.

He sighed, his gaze softening with a trace of pity.

The Lyrist and his companions must have been killed. In the long run, it was better than letting them killing the countless victims they had immobilized in the tavern, or even letting them go free to likely torture another gathering place.

But, that didn’t make it any less unfortunate to see the casualties… in the end, all they had amounted to were numbers for the famine. More starving demons, driven to passionate insanity, killing themselves for a taste of anything at all.

He heard the faintest echo of the melody the lyrist had played, recollected spottily in his mind. He had talent in his supple fingers, but it hadn’t been given the time to manifest before he was slaughtered. _He was a gifted demon… but he was out of his mind._

He gathered up the lanky, young goat in his arms securely, turning away and back towards the fence. Lifting it precariously over the fence, he laid it down back in its pen.

It spun around, stubborn, sticking up its chin and shaking its head almost tauntingly. He scoffed and shooed it away with one hand while the other skimmed over the broken plank of the fence. When it still lingered, he pushed it away slightly himself, making room for himself to throw his legs over the fencing. With the division between them removed, it raced off towards the older black goats at the far end of the pen.

He brushed off his legs and wine-blue toga and coiffed his messy hair once again before he entered the building. It had been cleared of any magic-users besides the four of his brothers who gathered at one table around a half-eaten loaf of olive-bread. He approached and their conversation stopped suddenly to acknowledge him.

Asmodeus scooted over on the bench, making room for Lucifer beside him.

“How’s Belphegor?” Satan was the first to ask, his green eyes intent on an answer.

“The angels are treating him as we speak.” Noting the look he’d incurred from him, he cleared his throat. “Beel is supervising them. If there’s any serious trouble, he trumps them in age, physique, and overall power- they’re young angels, neither one too remarkable.”

Asmodeus sighed, delicately pinching a sliver of bread between two fingers and taking a gentle bite. “On the other hand, this bread is remarkable.” Lucifer cocked a brow with amusement, turning to see whom he had said such a thing for. Not surprisingly, the blond-haired apprentice stood, wearing a rather daunted frown.

“Another witch makes it.” He softly admitted. Lucifer nodded slightly- the apprentice shrank back a few quick steps.

Lucifer smiling carefully, planted his elbow upon the table and rested a crooked finger against his lips. He began to turn around- Lucifer quickly spoke up. “Are you nervous? You have no reason to be. In fact, I hear you’ve been associating with demons somewhat frequently as of late.”

He hesitated, gawking at him. Not a word escaped him. Lucifer frowned. He must have come off as menacing to the human, and now he was at a loss for words- words that Lucifer required. He suspected that the young to-be witch knew at least something of value from the time he had spent with Virgil, but he seemed unlikely to say it now.

“Oh, that’s no way to introduce ourselves, is it, Lucifer?” Asmodeus chided, easing nimbly from his seat upon the bench- he held up the body of his long dress to move more freely, consequently flaunting his slender legs. He noted the apprentice glancing at them with intrigue. “I think you’re incredibly strong. Especially considering all that’s happened to you today.”

Lucifer glowered, setting his head into his hand as he regarded his younger brother. He heard Satan hum sarcastically with amusement.

“I admire your… resolve,” Asmodeus murmured warmly, reaching out tentatively, pressing a finger to his hand. The apprentice interlaced his fingers with his, his blue eyes lighting up. “I’m Asmodeus. What’s your name?”

“Amaryllis.”

The words fell out so easily. Lucifer couldn’t resist feeling an ounce of envy for his charms. Amaryllis had been coaxed completely in a matter of moments.

Asmodeus glanced back at Lucifer with a small grin; a silent gesture of acknowledgement. Lucifer’s eyes lit up- though rather helpless in battle, Asmodeus had other more charismatic talents and abilities- his alluring gaze was one of them. Lucifer began quickly. “Amaryllis, I hear you spoke with a demon who came here yesterday.”

“He never gave me his name.” he said with a nod. “Is it about the snakes?” Asmodeus pulled Amaryllis gently, urging him to follow as he drew him closer to Lucifer.

“It is- they were smuggled illegally.” He crossed his arms patiently. Virgil was wise to go unnamed- he must have been aware he was being pursued. Currently, he was being identified only by his striking hair and his snakes- Lucifer could only pray he didn’t lose the latter. He squinted. “How many were there?”

Amaryllis frowned. “Four, if I recall- two on each arm.” He breathed an inward sigh of relief. He still had his snakes under his ward- protected, fed, and hopefully still relatively small, so as to fit on his arms. “There’s no way I could have counted the eggs, though. There were dozens of those.”

Lucifer could feel the color leave his face. “The eggs?” he echoed.

The King hadn’t mentioned the eggs. It was quite possible the King didn’t even know about the eggs.

“Yes. He had a sort of.. cradle with him- filled with cloth, straw, and eggs.” Amaryllis hesitated, realizing this was news to the demons. Even Asmodeus was taken aback by it. “He said they’d be hatching soon.”

Lucifer could only stare, feeling as though his life was waning from him. _The eggs_. The _fucking_ eggs. The _very new_ eggs. The _unspecified amount of wild Devildom snakes an angry, anarchist poet could release upon the human world at a moment’s notice_. He narrowly stifled a frantic laugh, but just the hint of a noise seemed to unsettle Amaryllis- he could see it.

“I… need to make sure all is well in the kitchen,” Amaryllis frowned, his shoulders shrugging. “If you- or… anyone-” he glanced at Asmodeus. “-would like to join me and continue asking questions, I’d be happy for your company.”

Asmodeus beamed fondly. “What a generous offer!~ I’ll have to take you up on it.” He leaned forward on his toes, laying an unexpected kiss upon the tip of his nose. “There’s all manner of things I’d like to ask you.”

Amaryllis’ cheeks tinged strawberry red with a tiny laugh, a gleam in his eyes- without a word, the two bumbled off to the kitchen. Lucifer and Satan groaned audibly in synchrony when they disappeared behind the wall, then tried to pretend they hadn’t noticed each other.

Not a moment had passed when something clattered against the ground and Asmodeus yelped. “I suppose I’ll be in the kitchen tonight.” Satan huffed, standing up. “I really don’t trust they’ll stay focused on the task at hand.” Lucifer sighed with underlying gratitude as he marched out of sight.

With Satan, the kitchen suddenly sounded lively- the three could be heard laughing intermittently throughout the muffled strains of conversation that occasionally grew loud enough to make out. They sounded like old friends.

In the midst of an awkward, silent tension among the eldest brothers, Lucifer’s thoughts tainted with the new discovery of the surplus of eggs Virgil owned, the backdoor opened in the middle of a conversation between Beel and Moeris.

After a moment of small talk, Moeris turned into the bustling kitchen and Beel sat in Satan’s empty seat. “Ophanim fixed him up fast. He passed out a few moments after it was healed.” he reported. “I considered waking him up, but he was sleeping so deeply and he’s already been awake all day, I thought it was better to just let him lie for a bit. Moeris said we should stay the night.”

“Thank you, Beel.” Lucifer nodded bluntly. “It’s too dark to continue today either way- I suppose we will.”

The night carried on- Beel had earned Moeris’ favor and his voracious appetite was tolerated, though hardly sated. The subject managed to come up and Satan regaled the company with the long forgotten story of a human world nymph who’d snuck into the Demon King’s court and acted as a servant to romance a demon workhand.

Bets had been placed on how long it would be until she was caught. It had only been three days until Barbatos teased her about the free help, winning Diavolo ten thousand Grimm for the perfect bet. Panicked by the jeering cackles of onlooking nobles and Barbatos’s stoniness, she fled and hid in a tree, breaking down into bitter tears of fear.

Diavolo gazed towards her for a long while, before he rose and approached the tree that her pale legs hung out of. He started to coax her down; he spoke gently, moved slowly, and stayed at least three feet from her bough.

Bets were then placed on how long it would take him to convince her down. Two hours was the shortest time allotted, until Barbatos reluctantly joined the pool and offered ten minutes. It took him but seven minutes to convince her to come down and into his arms.

Even Barbatos couldn’t contain his laughter, losing all composure when the nobles could only gawk. He was left ten thousand Grimm richer and pardoned of ‘impertinence.’

Lucifer found the carefree evening strangely endearing. He sat with his legs crossed, sipping lightly upon bitter human world wine. At the end of a long conversation filled with gesticulations that seemed to be about what the Devildom was like, Asmodeus’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands and nodded, then leapt to his feet and offered a dance. They capered fluidly around the room and, with voices as graceful as their steps, sang strains of an old Devildom hymn dedicated to a long-since departed King.

Leviathan, Beelzebub, Satan and Mammon watched for a moment, envy in their eyes. Beelzebub hummed the melody himself, and Asmodeus whirled around, eagerly beckoning towards him in invitation. They rose with feigned reluctance, joining the festive singing.

Though they made six completely different sounds- from Beel’s bass-heavy baritone, to Mammon’s husky tenor, to Asmodeus’s elegant soprano- their voices intertwined into angelic harmony.

The grins on their faces were broad as the horizon- he smiled, a deep part of him charmed.

The scene before him reminded him of being a young Archangel with a dastardly ward of rejected cherubims.

It reminded him of rising with the Sun, when it seemed like no harm could come to anyone or anything around them- days where their wellbeing was promised to him with the Sun’s bold arrival.

It reminded him of the period of time before they grew up where he could even fit all six of them beneath his ivory white wings, protecting them from chilly morning rain.

It wasn’t the place that he missed though- not the Sun- not the white wings. He was more than happy to let that go. It was himself, Belphegor, and Lillith- it was _who_ was missing.

He paused, emitting a mournful, wavering breath and smiling morosely. His hands turned to fists and he bounced his leg, but it didn’t help to keep the thought of his dying sister in his lap at bay.

Lucifer stood up and nodded to his host. “I’m going to retire for the night. Thank you for your generosity, Moeris.”

Moeris looked up a bit surprised, but nodded and waved lightly. “Have a good night,” he softly said.

Without another word, he slipped out the backdoor into the night. He settled quietly into the bed he had spent the day in.

He laid down and stared at the pitch black ceiling, his mind tumulting with thoughts. He fretted about the eggs- Virgil’s intentions- Lillith’s demise- Diavolo’s advances- Hell’s famine- and the mess that his brothers would inevitably make of his mission- until his eyelids grew too heavy.

Though part of him wanted to resist it, feeling that he’d earned enough sleep in the afternoon, his body forced him to give in. Despite his anxieties, he managed to fall asleep blissfully in the bed beside his youngest brother’s, his body rewarding him a much more refreshing sleep than it had earlier.

It would come to be, however, that he was one of few restful things that night. Things were unfolding above and below him.

Ophanim and Morael, faithful servants of the Heavens, arrived at the knees of benevolent Micheal and spoke to him of their discovery. When he heard the ex-archangel’s name mentioned, his eyes lit up with a fierce luster they hadn’t foreseen, his kindness faltering.

At the very same time, while Hell burned, so did the King’s brow. His cough had worsened into a terrible fever- his man-in-waiting spent the sleepless night by his side, dampening his forehead. His magic wavered, causing him to shift into a much smaller figure, the bed he previously took up most of suddenly was comically large. If his people, starving and mad, where to see him, it would be a riot- people would storm his walls, he was sure, for his head and his crown.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, critiques, and kudos are appreciated! thank u for reading!! I've never posted on A03, so I might be a bit slow lol


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